


Ice Dance

by fairyminseok



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Dystopia, M/M, More angst, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Apocalypse, Snow, So much angst, the word "cold"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:51:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9174991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairyminseok/pseuds/fairyminseok
Summary: "Ice Dance," Baekhyun whispers, cold fingers trailing across the etched words. "Why would anyone want to dance in the ice?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Cheers!  For best reading experience: [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d91se3ttW1E) and [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MiYNHOkY_vM)

❄❅❆

Baekhyun's world hasn't always existed in shades of white and grey. It hasn't always been cold and ice and snow. There was once a time he could look up into the sky and see more than clouds, more than dust and dirt and lack of sunlight.

But Baekhyun's world is dark now. Storms of freezing ice with winds that blow sideways, strong enough to blow through entire buildings and freeze over anything and anyone. Month after month of his surroundings being so cold that even snow ceases to fall and Baekhyun's fingers go so numb he forgets they're attached to his body.

It had been slow too, the change from normal to entire cities being buried in ice and full of the dead. The change from the sun shining brightly in the sky to dim, to not at all, and from the seasons changing to no seasons at all. Except for the distinct change from snowfall cold to the kind of cold that makes Baekhyun want to sit outside in it for an extra ten minutes just to be gone from the world forever.

And yet here he is, having survived nearly his entire life in bleak, greyness, in the kind of light that barely exists at all through the thick clouds above his head that never quite go away. He sometimes still sits outside, when the snow has nearly tried to melt and the browns accompany the lack of colour and wonders why he's still trying, why he looks up into a sky that once gave him the sight of stars as a child and thinks that it's worth living another day.

There's always one reason. The replacement of the sun in the form of a protector, and the replacement of his stars in the form of a person, one with eyes that tell of lives past and hands that are always warm, always soft on Baekhyun's skin. Someone who looks upon the dreariness of what they have with unending positivity and optimism, the growing grass in a place where none has grown in years and years and years.

"It's too cold for you to sit out here tonight."

Baekhyun glances up, eyes fluttering open and hand reaching out of habit to find Minseok in the dark. His fingers close fingers and he smiles, only now feeling the numbing chill that seeps into his skin through the wood of their outside deck, through the cloth that covers him never enough.

"If you're the grass can you also be the trees?" Baekhyun asks, knees knocking together as he stands. His legs aren't happy, having been folded in the cold for too long, and he's starting to shiver, ready to hide his way in front of the fireplace and wonder about the nothing that had once been everything.

"If I was the grass and the trees I'd be dead probably," Minseok says kindly, but Baekhyun can make out a quiet smile on his lips even in the pitch black of the woods. "You've been out here so long you're starting to talk gibberish."

Baekhyun's laugh is one of teeth chatters and body shudders, scurrying his way inside after Minseok to immediately wrap himself in blankets, situated in front of the still roaring fire. He waits, one heartbeat, four heartbeats, until Minseok is next to him where he should be, and only then does he start to warm up from the endless winter cold.

"It's not gibberish," Baekhyun murmurs once he's draped himself across Minseok like an octopus, trying to mind his cold toes and fingers so Minseok doesn't freeze. "You just can't hear the other half of the conversation."

"You're not making me worry any less." Minseok scolds, but Baekhyun is already beginning to feel his limbs again, and with his cheek against Minseok's ratty green sweater and the brightness of the fire he's stopped thinking about freezing.

Baekhyun's world may exist in shades of white and grey, but his world with Minseok exists in many colours.

❄❅❆

_"Has it always been gone?"_

_"Has what?"_

_"The world," A small boy blinks up at his Mother, grey dust covering the tips of his fingers. He thinks he remembers grass, and the sun and swimming, but when looks up all he sees is darkness._

_"No," She informs him, a sad smile on her lips. "It wasn't always dark and cold."_

_"If it wasn't always gone," The boy says with a hopeful smile, bright eyes that shine in even the darkest of places. "It can come back."_

 

"It can come back," Baekhyun mutters to himself, glancing up at the blanket of clouds that exist as his sky. "But _will_ it?"

"What are you sneaky talking to yourself about?" Minseok's voice is directly in Baekhyun's ears, sharp and colourful against the dusky passages of his consciousness. Baekhyun jolts, hand coming up to his face in surprise, turning to Minseok with a sheepish smile on his face.

"Nothing," Baekhyun says with a shake of his head, "just complaining about the wind. "

"Do you need an extra neck wrap?" Minseok asks in concern, fingers curling under the one already around Baekhyun's neck to lay flat against his skin, no doubt checking how cold he is. "You're frozen."

"What good would that do?" Baekhyun says with a hollow laugh, dropping the shovel in his hands and shrugging at Minseok. "It won't block out the ice wind."

"you never know," Minseok prods gently, worry still colouring his features. "I'll heat up some water and we'll come inside soon."

"Is there enough for a fire?" Baekhyun asks Minseok's retreating figure. The tips of his fingers have gone numb under the material of his hand wraps, and he could really use the heat of a flame tonight.

"There's always enough for a fire." Minseok assures him, turning with a twist of his body before disappearing into the tiny, decaying cabin they call home.

 _except when there isn't_ Baekhyun thinks, bitterness finding its way into his system. The wind whips around and into his face, a cold blast of pain that has his toes curling in discomfort and a grimace encasing his features.

There's never enough fire to warm the chill in Baekhyun's bones, the kind of cold that seeps through his skin and past the surface to settle somewhere the air can't touch.

❄❅❆

Joonmyun awakes with a feeling that something is very, very wrong.

It isn't the storm that patters icicles against the sealed windows of the Siacom Laboratories, or the tree that snaps in the forest nearby, but a feeling of dread that settles deep in the pit of his stomach and tells him that today is the day.

He rolls onto his side and presses a hand against his portable heat stick, soaking the warmth into his body with the usual guilt of knowing he has more than most of the country. It's turned up against the blizzard, and Joonmyun knows the generators will have to be recharged, bathed with stored energy meant for the general public and yet hidden away in his facility.

He finds Yixing in the front lobby, where no one ever goes and the chill sets in deep, an ice cold layer of air never touched by the rest of the buildings heat. Joonmyun hesitates, eyes flickering from one side of the room to another before walking to stand next to his lab partner.

Yixing doesn't glance up as Joonmyun settles into place, and Joonmyun doesn't look at him, both their eyes scanning the disaster the storm causes, the force that still damages even after years of broken branches, broken windows, fallen trees.

"I'm leaving after the storm." Yixing's voice ricochets off the metal walls of the large room, and the solemn readiness of it pierces through Joonmyun's ears like the sharp stab of a needle.

"Are you sure you'll-"

 

"The time for discussion on my decision ended long ago." Yixing says harshly, though Joonmyun knows no bitterness, no malice in Yixing's tone or words is directed to himself. Rather, its force is directed to the world, and to the constraint of human emotion that has kept Yixing tethered for too long. That will always keep Joonmyun wound up tightly in the binds Yixing will leave behind.

"Good luck." Joonmyun says in a voice laced with shaking defeat. His eyes catch a bird struggling to survive in the wind, one that has adapted to live in the Earth's ever changing conditions and yet still is swept away by nature.

A shard of ice, whipping through the air, cuts into the birds wing, and Joonmyun imagines what it sounds like when its in pain. He imagines Yixing too, in pain, knee deep and alone in the snow searching for a family that may have ceased to exist long in the past.

"Whether something is successful or not," Yixing says, finally turning to Joonmyun with impassiveness in his eyes, mouth hanging open slightly, like it always does. "There's a kind of closure in knowing which outcome it was. I can't live my life locked away somewhere I don't deserve to be without knowing."

"Am I less than you then?" Joonmyun tumbles, cartwheeling backwards in a fluid motion that has him crashing against the confines of his own mind. The thoughts that wander are set free in their last moments to do so. "For not venturing out into death for my own closure."

 

"Have you thought so all this time?" Yixing asks quietly, reaching as if to put a hand on Joonmyun's shoulder, though he stops to let it drop to his side. "I didn't decide to leave just to guilt you over not searching for your mother and Baekhyun."

"I know," Joonmyun sighs, leaning against the layers of glass that separate him from the dangers of a problem he's supposed to stop but cannot. "But it's a thought that could exist."

Things always find a way." Yixing says sadly, and this time he does put a hand on Joonmyun's shoulder, not quite affectionate but the most Yixing has ever given him.

When Joonmyun comes back to his senses, hours later with his hands hovering over a machine he's long wanted to turn off, Yixing is gone. And it's with the last words he ever speaks circulating in Joonmyun's mind that he stares at the images on the console, the patterns and logs and answers that shouldn't be.

The Earth has been out of orbit for fourteen years now, steadily drifting away from the sun until the light from the giant star is too dim to heat it properly, until the seasons cease to exist and the world is blanketed by an ice age nearly un-survivable. Even if the sun's light were to break through the clouds that never dissipate, it's rays would be too weak to melt the snow and ice, too weak to warm the oceans. 

There's nothing anyone can do about it.

❄❅❆

"Why does daddy love the snow so much?" A little girl asks in her father in a small voice, arms huddled close to her body. Her eyes shine with wonder as she watches her uncle laugh, and watches her other father roll in the snow with him, eyes lit up and mouth a rectangle. "It's so cold."

"When you only know one thing your entire life you don't learn to appreciate it," Her father answers, and perhaps she's too young to understand but she listens with attentiveness, like she wants to know everything that enters her ears and touches her mind. "Because there is beauty in every little thing, even that which brings us pain, and only once you experience other things can that one thing you've known become that much more beautiful."

"Daddy once told me," The girl says, a grin on her face because children are always so proud to make connections, so proud to understand even a little bit. "That you're the only thing he's ever known never hurt him. Did he need other things before he thought so as well?"

"Daddy is a liar," Her father says, and his voice is a myriad of emotions she's not old enough to know yet, solemnness and fondness and something far away that will never come closer. "Because everything in this world, and any world can and will hurt you. But that doesn't mean it isn't beautiful or bad."

"The snow hurt a lot of people." The little girl says, and this she understands, having been born into the world when the sun was still new again and the seasons weren't quite right.

"That's why it takes a lot of strength to dance in it," He says, and though he's referring to both the men that smile while surrounded by ice when he says it, the notes of a song of the past filter through his memories. "To take what hurt you and make it beautiful so it can no longer hurt you."

He remembers how they called it the first winter, and how it was more important than the summer that had greeted them with the orbit back in place. And now here they are, the third winter and the world is still broken, things are still in pieces, but they both understand now what it means to dance in the ice.

The ring on his fingers glints under the light at the sun in unison with the reflective sparkles of the snow, and when a flake lands on his hand he feels no fear of wind and ice and all that could come with it.

Only peace.

"Do you wanna play with them?" He asks his daughter, ruffling her hair and taking her hand. Out of the corner of his eye he can see a purple power generator, the one that keeps them alive, and in the distance he can hear Christmas music.

His daughter squeals in happiness, complaining about the cold forgotten as she tumbles into the snow to her other father, pushing him to the ground with laughter and smiles. There's something beautiful about this moment that he can't quite place, but knows he will never forget, and its involuntary when a tear springs to life.

"What's up with you?" The girl's uncle asks, heaving from exertion as he comes to stand next to her father.

"It's nothing," He responds, though he knows it’s everything and all things and the solidarity of peace. "I'm just thinking about a Christmas I once had that seems so long ago."

❄❅❆

"There's nothing here but rubble," Minseok sighs, eyes gentle but lips frowning. "It's dangerous to keep digging like that."

"I can't leave until I know for sure there's nothing," Baekhyun insists, ignoring the aching of his limbs and the harsh bite of the wind on the back of his neck. A storm will come soon, a blizzard that they're not equipped for without proper shelter, but Baekhyun can't escape the feeling that surrounds him, a certainty that this place right here is of importance.

The thing that eventually catches his attention, after an hour of lifting boards and shaking the snow off of useless, broken items isn't something practical. It's a small metal box, metal and shining, something that seems rustic and yet reflective. It glitters, even with the darkening sky and steady growing winds, a beacon with with a wind up handle.

"Ice Dance," Baekhyun whispers, cold fingers trailing across the etched words. "Why would anyone want to dance in the ice?"

"What did you find?" Minseok asks, leaning over Baekhyun's shoulder with muted curiosity in his tired eyes. "Anything of use?"

"Can you wind it up for me?" Baekhyun mumbles, looking up at Minseok with the hint of a smile and yet too much confusion for it to be real. Minseok looks concerned, eyes flickering from the box to Baekhyun's exposed neck, to his fingers that have long gone numb in the cold. "My fingers won't work."

"When we find shelter," Minseok takes the music box from Baekhyun's hands and turns it over in his own exactly twice. He too, stares at the title of the song written on the side with wonder, but Baekhyun knows he cares less about what it means, cares less about a trinket when the world is going dark and danger is quick approaching.

"There's that house up the street," Baekhyun says, getting back to his feet properly, ignoring the way his body sways and his knees lock up. "It's not safe enough but it's the safest in this town I think."

Minseok nods, looking far away as they walk, holding the music box in delicate fingers, and Baekhyun's hand in his free one. It creates a strange feeling in Baekhyun, one of being torn in half with the numbness and warmth colliding in the middle of his body like a train hitting a brick wall.

Neither of them reach his heart, but that doesn't matter when the wind rips the door closed just as Minseok's hands let go of it. The windows rattle with the force of something they'll never understand, but Minseok holds him safe and warm in a cracking bath tub that reeks of abandonment and fear.

Baekhyun wonders where the bodies in this house are.

❄❅❆

"I wound it up," Minseok says quietly once the winds have calmed and the tub has become a sense of comfort for Baekhyun's tired limbs. Baekhyun is exhausted, yawning loudly rather than responding, eyes fluttering shut before opening again weakly as he looks up Minseok. "Do you want me to play it?"

"Please," Baekhyun croaks, throat dry and shoulders sore. He curls closer to Minseok to soak up the minimal warmth they have through their circulating blood and heartbeats that match in a world where everything else seems cold and dead. "I want to know what kind of sound the ice makes in music."

Minseok lets the handle go and Baekhyun is briefly mesmerized by the way it turns as if alive, forgetting to listen because the movement reminds him of the spin of the Earth and how life once spun happily with it. The sound he does hear is a sound he'd almost forgotten, a gentle humming lullaby, mechanical and echoing in the tiny bathroom they're sitting in.

It makes Baekhyun think of a world he'd once known, where music existed in grand amounts, and people loved enough to dance in circles just like the unwinding of the handle, a world where the falling snow was something to catch and twirl in.

The song ends too quickly, and Baekhyun finds himself scrambling upwards in Minseok's arms to wind it back up, to go back to the place in his mind where the sight of ice was a wonder and not a sign of fear and of death and of longing for something better, something warmer.

But the handle will not move and the box instead clicks as if about to break, creaking and dead, like a flash of something in a place that represents nothing. Baekhyun throws the box in frustration when it refuses to wind back up, satisfied by the noise it makes as it skitters across the cracked tiles of the floor, and yet he feels a yearning in his heart to hold it once again, despite its silence.

"It probably got too cold," Minseok murmurs, veiled comfort in his voice, and Baekhyun knows, understands the logic behind happenings, but his heart feels like shattering when he remembers that there's nothing to dance to, and that they're currently curled up in a bathtub like children, hiding from a storm that will never end.

"It was almost beautiful," Baekhyun says, voice bouncing off the walls and back into his own ears like a hollow version of what he thinks he sounds like. "Almost."

"Keep it," Minseok trails a hand up Baekhyun's hip to soothe him, though Baekhyun can't tell which emotion exists strongly enough to be soothed. "It may work again one day. I don't think anything's broken."

Later on, when they've left the house and the winds are picking up again, whipping into Baekhyun's ears like screams, Baekhyun's hand closes around the box in his pocket. He wonders if anything in this world will strike him as almost beautiful again.

❄❅❆

If anyone were to ask Minseok, he'd say that he's the one that found Baekhyun, but Baekhyun knows it's the other way around. It was he who chose to crawl out from the hidden expanses of a collapsed house to greet the boy he's watched walk by twice. He'd watched many pairs of feet walk by, heard many voices speak before this one, but they'd all stepped too heavily and spoke too loudly, harsh and arrogant even with the ice that blows in pieces past his tiny, fragile refuge.

Minseok though, had stepped lightly and spoken gently, little words to himself about what he could fit in his pack, and what to do now that his sister wasn't with him. It had sparked Baekhyun into finding him, lead out into the cold by a feeling that within Minseok was something of importance, _is_ something of importance.

And yet Minseok, even with his shy smiles and gentle laughing eyes, will still say to Baekhyun, "I found you in that box of plywood."

Perhaps they'd found each other.

Since then, Baekhyun had always vowed to follow whatever emotion remained in the emptiness of his self, to always find the things that made him understand that even in the hopeless winds of darkness there is always something of importance.

Most days he doesn't believe in the concept of beauty, or hope, or happiness. But when he takes the time to really open his eyes, when he looks at the treasure he'd found in the abandoned town he'd grown up in, he almost believes.

If anyone were to ask Baekhyun, he'd say that Minseok is the closest thing to beautiful he'd ever found, even more so than the music box, and the heat of a steady fire, or the feeling of a soft, clean rug against his skin. And yet Minseok would tell you otherwise, because he'd always believed in Baekhyun's heart more than Baekhyun himself did. Because Baekhyun can't look into his own eyes and find the love there, and Baekhyun can't hear his own heartbeat from outside his body.

What Baekhyun can hear is the sound of Minseok's voice first thing after waking up when he's reminding Baekhyun that they're still alive, still existing, and what Baekhyun can hear is the distant crash of a piano key echoing in the giant living room of that mansion they'd once stayed in. What Baekhyun can hear is the way the wind sometimes sounds like a voice, sorrowful and in need of help, and what Baekhyun can hear is the crackling of a fireplace they'd been lucky to found.

And Baekhyun can look into Minseok's eyes and see the love that's always been there, ever since he'd found him.

❄❅❆

Baekhyun sits cross-legged on a bed adorned with blankets they'd waited nearly two days to use, watching Minseok board the windows with tools he'd found out back. There's a fire near him, the kind that's safe, and doesn't skitter through empty houses to scorch his hands through the icy shivers that always wrack his body, and Minseok is humming.

 _A haven_ Minseok calls this place. A tiny log cabin they'd found situated in the woods, abandoned and yet full of signs of life. A shed full of wood, and hammers, and power tools that have long run out of energy. Dishes in the cupboards and a mattress easily cleaned. The windows had shattered from the strength of many blizzards, but the cabin itself is strong, wood bowing but not breaking with the force of the wind.

"I think if our collection of rations last and we find wildlife nearby we can stay here," Minseok says as he hammers in their last nail. His job is not perfect, but it's finished, and the lack of any light serves Baekhyun with a sense of safety. They won't have to curl up in a bathtub to wait out the storms, won't have to find the grimy, decaying cellars of broken houses to hide in. "There's even a shelf for our little findings."

Their findings include the Ice Dance music box, and a doll, and a few books, children's ones that Baekhyun had held close to his heart when he was still young, and holds even closer now that he's become an adult. The children in the books both calm him and give him a sense of envy, happy smiling round faces with parents and a home and a little yellow sun above their heads always.

Children, though fake, that have been given a permanent life just like the one that had been torn from him slowly as a child, the sun that had slowly stopped floating above his own head, the family that had disappeared, one by one.

"Can we call it a home?" Baekhyun asks, eyes swimming and blanket pooling around his ankles.

"I think we can." Minseok smiles, tucking himself beside Baekhyun's sitting figure with quiet grace.

"Good," Baekhyun says with a hint of hope in his voice. "I've always wanted a home."

❄❅❆

"Do you remember summer?"

 

Minseok glances up from the rug, gaze turning from his cold hands to Baekhyun. He blinks, tilting his head and frowning, and the room is quiet aside from the crackling of their feeble fireplace.

 

"Barely," Minseok admits, leaning forward to shift the logs around, jumping slightly when the fire flicks out at his fingers. "It's so distant all I can see when I close my eyes is snow."

 

"I do," Baekhyun says quietly, wrapping his blanket around him. He wishes Minseok would stop staring at the flames and come hold him, wrap his arms around Baekhyun to keep out the chill that shivers across his skin. "I remember trees and grass and flowers blooming."

"You were too young to remember anything that clearly," Minseok laughs, a grimace of disbelief. He crosses his legs and turns away from Baekhyun, staring into the fire as if waiting for the secrets of the world to spill from each lick of flame. "Flowers are a myth."

"I wasn't too young," Baekhyun frowns, hugging himself close. He wants to go to Minseok but the heat of the fire scares him when there's nothing in his way to block it from burning his skin and escaping into his lungs. "I remember flowers all over my self, colourful things in little pots. And sometimes the sun would come into a room just right and light them up."

"Maybe we didn't have any flowers in my house then," Minseok responds, sounding defeated, like he's not up for conversation of any kind, not up for anything besides his efforts to keep their tiny home free of the wind outside. "What does it matter anyway? We only have two seasons now."

"It'll warm up again one day." Baekhyun says softly, and he squeezes his eyes closed, trying to remember what the warmth of the sun felt like on his skin as a child, what the sky looked like when it wasn't grey, when the sun wasn't blocked out. But he can't remember anything more, and he deflates, falling sideways onto the bed.

"I doubt it," Minseok says, voice softening just a bit so that Baekhyun knows Minseok doesn't mean to hurt him with his negativity. Baekhyun can't see him anymore from his new position, but he feels more warm this way with his feet tucked into the blankets and his cheek touching soft fabric. "Can you sing for me again soon?"

"No," Baekhyun whispers, curling into himself more. His lungs are suddenly heavy and the room is ice, eyes weary and heavy at the mere thought of opening his mouth for music. "Not until the sun comes out."

Minseok doesn't respond, but a minute later Baekhyun feels the bed shift as Minseok's weight is added to it and the blanket is gently lifted from his shoulders only to replaced with the warmth of body heat. 

"I don't remember summer but I remember your singing voice," Minseok tells him once they're wrapped in each other, and Baekhyun is focused on the way the fire lights up the room gently but not enough, shadows too dark on the walls. "It was beautiful."  
"There's no room for beauty in this world anymore," Baekhyun mutters, muffled by Minseok's chest and by the blankets that cocoon them. He closes his eyes to block out the way the dancing light makes the shadows come alive, a shudder wracking his body before he stills completely in Minseok's hold.

"You're still here," Minseok points out, and Baekhyun wishes he had the ability to blush. Instead he just curls his fingers into Minseok's shirt and laughs, images of bouquets and grass too long flickering across the canvas of his closed eyelids.

"I'm not beautiful." Is his response, mumbled as weariness seeps into his bones. They'd done a lot today to prepare for blizzard season, and he feels so tired now with the warmth that comes from proximity.  
Minseok doesn't answer, and Baekhyun opens his eyes to see Minseok still watching the fire, lost somewhere else that isn't in their bed, isn't in this world even.

"Everything is beautiful," Minseok says with a tiny smile. "Even the ugliest things have a bit of it. But you're not ugly."

"I was ugly when I found you,” Baekhyun says through a soft yawn, hooking his legs around Minseok's and burrowing deeper, ignoring the mental distance for the physical closeness that he craves.

"I found _you_. Then I washed you off and prettied you up," Minseok says with a chuckle, locking eyes with Baekhyun, reaching up to run a hand through his dry hair. "And now look at you."

"Go to sleep," Baekhyun says without looking away, and it feels like ages since he's looked into Minseok's eyes for longer than a heartbeat. Baekhyun wonders if Minseok realizes that amidst the barren quiet of their world that he's the beautiful one.

Minseok leans forward a fraction and kisses Baekhyun with a fragility that surprises him, lips warm and moist. Baekhyun sighs into it, pressing against Minseok and letting his eyes flutter closed, heating up with sudden emotion that flickers inside him like a newly lit candle.

"You first" Minseok whispers when he pulls back, eyes twinkling and large and full of dull hope. "The blizzard is picking up and we still need more wood."

Baekhyun hums, letting the energy seep from his body in a swoosh of his breath, limbs relaxing and brain slowing down, peaceful gears turning into feelings of sleep as he allows himself to doze off in Minseok's arm. He's warm for now, and though tomorrow will be long the soft grey light of the days are disappearing for the pitch black of the endless darkness of the colder season.

The only thing that ever gets Baekhyun through the blizzard season is the blind hope that the snow will actually melt afterwards, that the sun will burst through the clouds that bind the Earth to winter. That he'll be able to see the grass and grow flowers that will prove to Minseok that they aren't a myth.

The wind howls against the boarded up windows as Baekhyun slips from consciousness into a dreamless sleep.

❄❅❆

_"What month is it?"_

_Joonmyun glances up from staring into his coffee to see Yixing leaning back in an office chair, lips quirked and eyes curious. Joonmyun will never quite understand how he stays so calm and optimistic even when the computer shows no signs of the Earth ever moving back into his orbit, when the storms grow worse and their supplies come in less, and less from the military._

_"It's July," Joonmyun says solemnly, and he nearly laughs when the wind howls in response, shaking even their armored facility to it's core. "It's the middle of Summer."_

_"I see," Yixing nods, but his eyes are looking far away. "I was just wondering, because I saw a Christmas tree the other day while scouting. It even had lights on it, fashioned from tiny candles. thought the whole thing would go up in flames."_

_"I suppose it's always Christmas these days isn't it," Joonmyun says in an empty voice, and though he himself has lost hope, it marks his heart the tiniest bit knowing that someone out there still has some._

_"Can we have Christmas this year?" Yixing asks, but it's with a laugh in his voice and teasing on his tone.  
They both know he'll be gone by Christmas._

❄❅❆

"Sometimes I miss our travelling days," Baekhyun says as they huddle together on their tiny bed, meals of rationed jerky in hand. The storm shakes the cabin, rattling the boarded up windows, and Baekhyun has to hold down his fear, turning his thoughts and ears away from the blizzard to focus on Minseok instead. "I get restless."

"We're running low on supplies," Minseok comments, voice muffled with his mouth filled with food. His cheeks puff out when he eats, chipmunk round and adorable, and Baekhyun only barely has the restraint to not reach out and poke them. "We'll have to go on a search for a town soon anyways."

"I know it sounds silly," Baekhyun picks at the ends of his piece of jerky. He's sick of eating this, but the storms are plentiful lately and the animals scarce. He's losing weight again, and his mind is starting to tick like a clock, stir crazy from spending all day sitting in front of a fire. "But I just need to... go somewhere. That's not here."

And he doesn't want to seem ungrateful but-

"It'll be good for both of us," Minseok agrees, surprising Baekhyun with his readiness. Things have been getting tense and fresh air and movement is good. Even in the endless cold and dreary skies."

"Thank you," Baekhyun murmurs, spirits heightened enough to eat the dry, lifeless food in his hands, to drink the boiled ice water Minseok had collected earlier. "For understanding."

"That's what I'm here for isn't it?" Minseok smiles, a gentle hand that lands on Baekhyun's thigh to squeeze, a reminder of the light that dances in a field of grass. "There's importance in comfort. In happiness."

"This is why I called you grass," Baekhyun explains, and every bite of jerky makes him wonder what proper fruit tastes like. "Because the light of Spring could also bring comfort and happiness."

A tree falls loudly in the distance, a crack and a rustle and too much sound that drowns out the meaning of Baekhyun's words in the reality of something harsh and cruel.

"Anything can have comfort and happiness," Minseok's voice is warm in the quiet after the storm, hours later with his body wrapped around Baekhyun's like a noose and the thoughts of despair whisper soft. "You just have to try hard enough."

❄❅❆

"I want to see a sunset." Baekhyun says, a thought that slips into his mind and out of his mouth without restraint, eyes trained on the thick blanket of clouds. He slips a bit, catching himself on Minseok's arm as his decaying shoes slide on the ice beneath them. It's too cold to snow now, and the wind causes ice and drifts, nearly impossible to work through. But their supplies are low and they must travel in hope of finding another house, or a nearby town with anything they could need within.

"I'd rather see the sunrise." Minseok responds, fingers lacing through Baekhyun's to keep them both steady on the frozen road that seems to stretch in front of them forever. Yet with a road comes hope, because a road always leads somewhere where people once lived, and perhaps could even lead somewhere they still do.

Though Baekhyun doesn't trust the fragile minds of other human beings in this world anymore, people hardened and hurt by the conditions in which life exists. Bandits and murderers and people whose minds have cracked like the ice does when it almost melts.

"Why the sunrise?" Baekhyun asks in curiosity, because to him they're nearly the same, but a book he'd read had told him that the sunset is beautiful, meant for lovers to enjoy on the edge of a hill. He wants to sit in warm grass and see an array of colours his memory can no longer retrieve.

"Because the sun doesn't do that anymore," Minseok says in a sullen voice, breathing quickening at the exertion of not falling, of keeping them upwards and functioning. They're getting too far from home now. "It set once for good and never came back."

Baekhyun is pondering this, weighing it carefully in the chattering doorways of his mind, when something else completely makes him forget. "I see a house," He shouts, letting go of Minseok's hand only to grab it again, squeezing tightly as he attempts to speed up.

"Slow down," Minseok complains, yanking him back roughly only to catch Baekhyun in his arms when he nearly falls, heart beating wildly.

"Sorry I just-"

"I know," Minseok says with a smile, and Baekhyun briefly wonders if Minseok will ever change, or if he'll be the comforting constant in the grey that surrounds him forever. "but we can't hunt for supplies if you crack your head open."

"I'll be fine," Baekhyun frowns, but he slows to a crawling pace, remembering that the reassuring touch of Minseok next to him could be gone at any second.

"Good boy," Minseok laughs, patting his head. Their spirits have risen now, and even Minseok with his calmness seems excited, craning his neck with fluttering, focused eyes. "Let's hope it's empty."

 

It is, with the door caved in and the hallway full of swept in ice and snow, but the pace is still standing, and the house is yet to be ransacked. Baekhyun pauses for a beat too long in the kitchen, eyes trained to a pot on the stove, scorched from the water it had been boiling.

If there had been electricity they must ran from the first ice blizzards, evacuated in an emergency that had gripped many small towns, including his own. He can still remember the panic in his mother's eyes as she'd pulled him into the storm cellar, arms encased around him in a fleeting attempt at protection.

It seems so long ago, when Baekhyun had still hoped for Joonmyun to come home with news of a scientific breakthrough, had still hoped for the sun to shine and for things to be normal again.

He turns away from the scene with a lump in his throat, but then Minseok is there, a sparkle in his eye as he shows Baekhyun canned food, frozen and old but edible and plentiful. "I found some clothing too," Minseok is saying, though his soft voice struggles to reach Baekhyun through the ringing in his ears. "It's cold but not falling apart."

"That's good," Baekhyun says weakly, and he's happy, but he's suddenly exhausted, teetering on his feet with a loss of energy.

"Do you want to try and sleep here overnight?" Minseok is looking over his shoulder with badly hidden paranoia, and Baekhyun can see his thoughts racing, but he's tired and cold, nodding with hesitation. "Alright," Minseok sighs, a disappointed and worried kind of noise that Baekhyun's always disliked. "I'm worried about leaving our home unguarded for so long but there's no way you'll make it back."

"I'm sorry," Baekhyun says in a meek voice, but Minseok is shushing him, gently guiding him to a place Baekhyun doesn't miss existing in, a small upstairs bathroom with a sink of frozen water and a toilet with a cracked lid.

"Never be sorry," Minseok stares at him, through him, into him. "Ever."

The guilt tears Baekhyun apart at already weak seams, but he knows he'll be okay tomorrow.

❄❅❆

“Do you think if we went to space we could see the sun?” Baekhyun holds a bag of candy, gentle dangling from his fingertips. He’s deciding if he should keep it or not, if they should try to warm the frozen pieces of sugar in front of a fire, use it as extra food. Because food is food and- “I want to find a rocket and see colours, and feel warmth.”

“The colours would be too bright and the warmth would burn you up,” Minseok takes the bag from Baekhyun and drops it into his pack. Food is food, and the cabin needs to be stocked up for the storms, for the times when they can no longer travel and travel and travel more. “But you would see the sun.”

“Then it would be worth it,” Baekhyun breathes, fingers closing on air as he takes a second to adjust, to realize Minseok has taken his find. _a thing found in the snow,_ “I wonder if the clouds can see the sun. Do they remember what it looks like?”

“No, but it remembers them,” Minseok plays along, matching the pace of Baekhyun’s erratic thoughts. “Even from far away with it’s light unable to reach. It remembers us too, I think.”

“If it remembers then why won’t it come home?” Baekhyun whispers, eyes on the darkening horizon and hand searching searching searching for a part of Minseok to hold so he knows that the grass still grows and the trees still sway. 

“Sometimes people can’t go home, no matter how much they want to.” Minseok tells him, tugging gently at Baekhyun’s wrist to pull him through the snow, to pull _them_ through the snow. Baekhyun’s grateful that it isn’t the blizzard season, that it’s just cold and drifts and endless cloud that drops nothing, but he wishes walking were easier, wishes that his feet wouldn’t get trapped. 

“Like Joonmyun?” 

“I’m sure your brother wanted to go home many times,” Minseok nods, agreeing and assuring and still tugging. “You know what things are like. He did important work and yet look at the state of the world. Travel can be impossible, life can be impossible.”

“He left to do important work to help stop this,” Baekhyun says quietly, and he loses track of how long they walk through snow and dead trees and nothing at all that he forgets to finish what he’s saying until way later, when the cabin is coming into view. “I understand now. I didn’t back then.”

“Life often doesn’t give anyone the proper time they need to understand,” Minseok too answers moments and moments later, when the crystallized candy, sugar and squish and so much sweeter than anything Baekhyun is used to is sliding down his throat. “Life is all about how quickly you can react.”

“And yet time feels so slow.” Baekhyun sometimes thinks the fire will start speaking to him with each flame that licks the sides of the charred and old fireplace. He wonders what will happen if a storm takes the chimney and they can no longer light the logs that Minseok collects from the forest. 

“It’s better that way, I think,” Minseok speaks in a low voice he sometimes uses to make Baekhyun shiver from more than just the cold. “Calm.”

“Calm.” Baekhyun repeats with a nod and a smile, but his nails are scratching at his arms and his foot is tapping against the ground. There’s nothing calm anywhere, not here not there not over the hill. 

Nowhere.

❄❅❆

Baekhyun finds the radio accidentally; an antenna sticking out from the snow that catches his eye in the bright of a morning that feels like the rays of the sun may just break through the clouds. It’s frozen, but it still works, though in whistles and whirs and static that amount to nothing but lost hope. Minseok keeps it anyways, and his fingers begin to lose colour as they begin their trek home, fiddling with the knobs in an attempt to find a signal, in an attempt to find a steady sign that controlled life, that normal, happy surviving life exists somewhere in their world. 

“You should stop,” Baekhyun says in worry, enclosing his hands over Minseok’s with a frown and shuddering at the icy feeling they bring from his fingertips straight to his toes. He wants to let go, but a static voice from the radio has him freezing in his steps, the cold of Minseok’s fingers forgotten in his awe. 

Baekhyun can’t remember the last time he heard a voice that wasn’t Minseok’s. 

“We lost two more on Route D347H yesterday,” The voice swims in and out, but a word catches Baekhyun’s attention and he’s pulling the radio from Minseok’s hands to listen, holding it close to his ear just in case he’s heard wrong. “Siacom still refuses communication, keeping answers few and far between. Any civilians within the vicinity are found killed. It seems even the government has abandoned our sad planet Earth to die.”

“Siacom,” Baekhyun whispers, and his eyes widen, flicking from tree to tree as if a building could appear his very eyes, one that has his brother and hope and answers. “Joonmyun.”

“Do not lose hope though, ladies and gentlemen,” The voice tells them. “Our community may be small but we are strong. There is beauty and hope, and there is strength through the music we have. Here is a song(link to Mazzy) from times past to calm your nerves as the next snow arrives. God bless and may you live in beauty lest the signal go out.”

Baekhyun’ can’t remember the last time he heard music. The last time he heard a voice sing into his ears that wasn’t Minseok’s. Tears spring to his eyes, and Baekhyun fights them away, holds them down against the wind that threatens to turn them to ice too quickly. 

“How do they know there’s a storm coming?” Baekhyun croaks, and his feet shuffle in a kind of panic. The soaring feeling of music, the soaring feeling of knowing people live and thrive is stomped out by the fear of being out in the open during a storm. “When the skies are always dark and the wind always howls?”

“I don’t know,” Minseok takes the radio back from Baekhyun’s hands and stares ahead of them with uncertainty. A voice sings about dust, and Baekhyun knows he doesn’t want to become another piece of the wind that slices through the air and pains those that it touches. “Let’s get home.”

Except later, when their legs ache and their breath feels like no warmth exists in it any longer, they arrive to a scene they’ve happened upon many times, in many places, but never yet this one. Because home is no longer standing, no longer a tiny log cabin in the woods but a pile of rubble, bowed and twisted boards that fell with the last storm. 

And Baekhyun knows he shouldn’t, but he’s rushing towards the remains of what they’d just only recently called a home, a place that had kept them safe and warm and calm for so long, longer than they’d been scavengers without a place. He digs through the boards, and he cries, and he searches, and when blood drips from his fingers he pays it no attention. 

“Baekhyun stop.” Minseok is pulling on his arm, and he looks angry, but Baekhyun doesn’t care in this moment because Minseok doesn’t understand that home isn’t the roof over their head that stops the ice from laying them dead in their bed, and home isn’t this world. Home is in the books Baekhyun pulls from the decaying shelves for Minseok to read, and home is the tiny music box that creaks and plays the sound of the Ice Dance. 

Home is Minseok too, but Minseok had taught him to care about the things he finds in the snow and it had been snowing when Baekhyun had found Minseok. Eery little thing Baekhyun cares about is in the snow, and maybe that’s because all he’s ever known is snow, but even the screams of the wind that picks up while the radio continues to play its quiet, static music behind them means nothing when Baekhyun cannot find his home. 

“It’s gone,” Baekhyun finally says in a voice that’s quiet against the wind of the blizzard even though he’s screaming. “But I found the music box.”

Minseok says something, and Baekhyun can feel a hand on his shoulder and on his hips and maybe around his waist, but he can’t hear the words because the world has gone dark and the wind is so so cold.

❄❅❆

It’s Baekhyun who kisses Minseok first. 

They’ve found a hotel, one that’s in good condition with clean blankets where the small animals, the mice and the cats, are hiding from the wind that seems worse this season than before. Baekhyun can hear the drip of water somewhere, and it’s rare that water exists in a form that isn’t ice without being melted, boiled down. 

Minseok is nervous, worried, agitated with eyes wider than his cheeks and hands that hold onto Baekhyun like he might disappear out the window any moment, apologies on lips that doesn’t need to speak them. Because it’s Baekhyun’s fault that they’d lost half their rations, dropped somewhere to never be retrieved, and it may have been Minseok who yelled, and it may have been Minseok who’d sworn, but it was Baekhyun who caused the problem. 

It’s always Baekhyun who causes the problem. 

Minseok doesn’t need to apologize, and Baekhyun can’t stand this, can’t stand the fretfulness that screams and the walls that seem to small when everything isn’t okay. He doesn’t know how anything works because he’s never had a chance to learn, but he’s read books and he knows who he is, knows natural instincts. And Minseok won’t stop talking, and the apologies are flimsy when repeated, so Baekhyun kisses him. 

It’s gentle, more fretful than the regret that pours from Minseok, but it works, a press of Baekhyun’s lips against Minseok’s that bring words and thoughts and hearts to a stand still in the cold of only lit candles. Minseok think he’s too young but Baekhyun understands the passing of time and he understands how he works and he knows who he is. 

Minseok is what he is, who he is, all he knows and yet Baekhyun knows it isn’t just because of that. The worry in Minseok’s eyes doesn’t leave like Baekhyun wants when he kisses him again, and again and again in days, years, as long as forever reaches in their world. It only grows stronger, and that part Baekhyun doesn’t understand, but he thinks one day he will. 

The room feels warmer when Minseok is closer than ever, and the apologies are forgotten when the world slows down just long enough for a tiny bit of beauty to reach through to its dark corners.

❄❅❆

"It's been warmer this season," Minseok comments as he strips a rabbit of his skin, eyes on Baekhyun rather than his work. He's done this too many times, with the wind nipping at his fingertips, hands moving to a routine he no longer pays much attention.

Baekhyun however, is always entranced, stomach rumbling in excitement and eyes sparkling with happiness. It's been weeks since they last ate fresh meat, having to survive off the frozen rations leftover from the days when the government still tried.

Baekhyun sometimes thinks about the government, of the order the world tried to sustain through the first blizzards, through the darkness and the sideways rains of ice. But the rations had stopped arriving and the lines had gone dead. Abandonment and disorder and the understanding that they've been left to fend for themselves.

Baekhyun often thinks of travelling the many miles to Siacom to demand answers from the scientists there, but he isn't even sure they remain, isn't sure if his brother is still alive and working within the walls. Many of the large corporations had collapsed with the frost storms, but Minseok is convinced the government, and the rich -- scientists and business people alike -- still remain, and that regular citizens like them have been long abandoned, left for dead amid the snowy countryside.

"I haven't noticed," Baekhyun mumbles, lips feeling numb and heavy from their disuse. He's been silent too long, standing in the cold to keep Minseok company as he works. "All cold is the same to me."

"I'm not wearing gloves today and it's the dark season," Minseok says with a careful, timid smile. He doesn't want to set off Baekhyun's emotions, his jagged temper, but he doesn't need to worry so much. Baekhyun doesn't want to speak today, let alone raise his voice. He sighs as he follows Minseok inside, sitting in front of the dying fire immediately to bring warmth to his shivering toes.

"You're used to it is all," Baekhyun answers finally, and his own smile is timid also, fluttering and weak and brief. "It's a mirage."

"Possibly," Minseok agrees sullenly, and Baekhyun can hear the scraping of a metal pan. He'll enjoy the rabbit, and he'll enjoy melting ice to boil and drink and maybe even bathe tonight. "I think it has gotten warmer but you've never really gotten used to the cold."

"I never will," Baekhyun sighs, leaning back heavily until his shoulder blades touch the foot of their bed. "Can we read tonight?"

Minseok hums, slipping past Baekhyun to hang the rabbit over the fire before sinking down onto their rug. It's one of their most prized possessions, taken from an abandoned mansion they'd found years ago scavenging for shelter. It stands out in the tiny cabin, bright and ornate and too fancy.

"Which one?" Minseok asks gently, stocking up the fire with cut planks from dead trees. He pauses to push a hand gently through Baekhyun's hair, fingers dropping to play with the collar of his shirt. It's one of Minseok's, slipped on when Baekhyun had tired of his own tiny collection of shirts.

 

_'it smells like you' baekhyun mutters, sniffling with tear stained cheeks and chest heaving painfully from his breakdown._

_'it smells like winter,' minseok responds and eyes are sad as he wipes drying tears from baekhyun's soft skin._

_'you smell like winter since you're outside more,' baekhyun mumbles, eyes hollow as they stare into minseok's ' but you still smell like you'._

 

"Goodnight Moon," Baekhyun nods. He doesn't know why he needs the comfort of a story about things he will never have, but it feels right in the atmosphere. Real food cooking and Minseok in a good mood. Baekhyun curls his knees to his chest and lays his head back on the scratchy blanket that hangs over the edge of the bed.

"My child," Minseok coos teasingly, ruffling Baekhyun's hair, but he kisses him softly right after, lips moist and warm against Baekhyun's chapped and stress bitten ones. It's brief but distracting, Baekhyun's fingers curling around Minseok's arms eagerly, as if Minseok's inner warmth will travel to the cold depths of Baekhyun's chest.

"It's either that or a Christmas one," Baekhyun says with soft, sad laughter when Minseok pulls away to turn towards the fire. His hand drops to Minseok's hip, feeling the need to be touching him always. It's possessive, even in a world where no one except the snow and ice and wind could take his Minseok away, but it brings a level of comfort the fire cannot.

"Are you thinking about Christmas again?" Minseok asks, voice is wary. He doesn't like the holidays, claims he hated him even when winter was still welcomed, but he knows Baekhyun likes to drown in the fantasy of a hearty feast full of laughter and family.

"I nearly saw the moon through the cloud last night," Baekhyun says softly, and maybe it was just like Minseok thinking the world is getting warmer, a mirage of his mind. He pulls their blanket off the bed and wraps it around himself, bringing it up to his chin, toes curling into the rug. "It was bright, which means the sun still shines."

"Not brightly enough," Minseok mutters, poking at their meal with a frown. "What does that have to do with Christmas?"

"It made me wonder about the sun and the world where winter was welcomed because it meant the holidays," Baekhyun looks toward their low ceiling, faint happiness on his lips and the image of twinkling lights dancing through his fantastical mind. "I know you hate it. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Minseok's voice is warm and gentle, eyes whining with something sad. Baekhyun feels a painful tug in his heart as he gathers their cracked dishes and faded cutlery. His eyes stay on the floor as Minseok gives him his food, pretending as usual not to notice when Minseok's gives him the bigger portion. He places their dishes beside the bed and falls onto Minseok, full weight on top of him with a sudden rush of what Minseok fondly calls his "Baekhyun moments". He buries himself in Minseok's chest, whining when Minseok's arms encase him with hesitance.

"What's wrong?" Minseok asks with a tremor, and Baekhyun clings tighter, curls up and wills the tears away.

"Thank you," Baekhyun mumbles against Minseok, the vibrations and closeness of Minseok's voice working to calm the shaking that's already started in his fingertips.

"It's just a rabbit," Minseok chuckles, readjusting them until they're sitting up and Baekhyun is forced to look at him.  
"I know," Baekhyun says in embarrassment, ashamed of succumbing to such a sudden attack of anxiety and gratitude. "I just felt really-" He waves a hand and slides from Minseok's lap, tears still threatening to well up in his eyes.

"Eat," Minseok prods, nodding to the nearly discarded food. "I didn't catch and cook a rabbit for you to cry until it gets cold."

Baekhyun knows that Minseok, much in the way that Baekhyun does, is pretending not to know the reason for his tears.

❄❅❆

"You've been quiet." Baekhyun murmurs, afraid to break the peace, afraid to speak as loud as the soft whirring of the heated panels that surround them. They've been here three days, and in a few hours the monitoring system will be live once again, ready to show them what's been causing the turmoil, the pain, the utter desperation they've been living with for most of their lives.

Baekhyun wants to look, wants to know how it works and learn, but he's scared. Seeing the inevitable, the irreversible. The one little bit of beauty left in the world in the form of a blind hope for the future, for the world becoming better and better, would be gone, shattered in an instant by the cold hard truth of science.

"I'm worried." Minseok's reply is just as soft, matching Baekhyun with his voice. His hands are in Baekhyun's hair, gentle petting that's lulling him into a calm so deep he could fall asleep. He never wants to leave this place, with it's electrical heat and lights that remind Baekhyun of dim, tiny suns floating above his head. And the colours, so many of them bright and artificial and beautiful, with no snow to constantly remind him of the dangers.

No wonder Joonmyun protects this place from the outside, from others.

"About?"

"You."

Baekhyun shifts in Minseok's lap, so he's looking up at him from below, and it's comforting when Minseok automatically adjusts, scratching at the base of Baekhyun's neck with soft fingers. "Why?" He asks, teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

"There are other people here," Minseok mutters, sounding embarrassed by his words, hesitant to let them spill. "And I'm worried."

"I don't care about the others." Baekhyun frowns, perplexed by Minseok's train of thought. He's not equipped to understand the jealousy of others.

"What if you talk with them and realize one is wonderful?" Minseok says, a soft sigh escaping his lips after a tumbling of words. His hands have paused in Baekyun's hair and he looks as if he's afraid to speak. "The thing is Baekhyun, when things calm down and you meet other people, do you love me because I'm me? or do you love me because I'm the only person you know?"

Baekhyun is silent for a long time, still with his head still pillowed on Minseok's thighs and his feet against the heat that he never wants to leave. He understands, grasps it in a moment of flooded confusion and thoughts, the reason why Minseok likes when the world slows down, when the calm gives the ticking of his brain time to re-calibrate with the ticking of the word.

"I told you," Baekhyun starts, licking his lips because he can't answer Minseok's question, he doesn't know the answer and he maybe never will, but he does know that Minseok is Minseok and that's that. "Once before, in that big hotel. You're the only person I know but that doesn't mean I care about you just because of that. I knew many people before you, when I hid in the remains of my town and none of them treated me like you."

"And what happens if somehow I'm not here to take care of you?" Minseok's voice is steady but Baekhyun can see him both calmed and tensed by the answer. "Can you take care of yourself?"

"I can try," Baekhyun answers in a heartbeat, a quick thought spilled forth for something he never wants to think about. "But you'll always be here. You can't. You can't not."

"I can't promise it." Minseok stares to the ceiling, and Baekhyun's eyes follow, counting the tiles with their neat, lined filings.

"I know." Baehkyun whispers, but Minseok's touch is gentle again and Baekhyun isn't quite sure he's whispered loud enough. He wants to scream, _you have to promise me_ , but he knows his emotions, his outbursts and his clinging upset Minseok. Knows he shouldn't be that way.

The heater burns his toes, and as he's pulling his feet away to tuck them under the blankets, Baekhyun wonders if even Minseok's beauty could one day be lost.

❄❅❆

Baekhyun wakes up cold and alone.

He's briefly panic stricken tearing around the blankets for Minseok, the bed creaking dangerous under the assault of his shifting weight. He's just about to leap from the bed in search when he hears scuffling outside, heavy and unfamiliar, followed by a grunt and a loud thump against the wall of the cabin.

Baekhyun sucks in a loud breath, scuttling backwards until he's against the wall, icy cold wood seeping through his thin shirt and terror streaking through him. Minseok has no reason to be this loud, has no heavy lifting chores planned today, and Baekhyun's mind screams, filling with the worst case scenarios.

Bandits, who have already murdered Minseok as he gathers snow for their baths. Bandits, breaking down their door to kill him and take their home and their rations, all that they have. Tears spring to Baekhyun's eyes and he hates himself for being so weak, for spending so much of his time constantly on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Constantly _weak, weak, weak,_ upset and shaking.

The door opens and Baekhyun brings his knees to his chest, vision blurring from tears and the panic that encases him and shortens his breath. He squeezes his eyes shut, and a brief thought crosses that he may be overreacting, but they've dealt with bandits before. They'd barely escaped then, and that was only because of Minseok's protection.

Baekhyun doesn't stand a chance on his own.

There's a noise, ringing too loudly in Baekhyun's ears, the same thump from earlier, but indoors now, followed by shuffling feet and the sound of a heavy object being dragged across the wooden panels.

 _the sound of a body._ Voices Baekhyun's irrational consciousness. _you're next_.  
Baekhyun hides himself small against the wall, and he's waiting, ready for death to come when a familiar voice sounds out.

"Baekhyun?"

Baekhyun whimpers at the sound of his name, eyes shooting open as he slumps against the wall, shaking and terrified. Minseok is rushing towards him, eyes wide and alarmed at Baekhyun's state. Baekhyun wastes no time moving forward to wrap himself around Minseok's body, shuddering at the cool touch of Minseok's fingers on his spine.

"Baekhyun?" Minseok repeats nervously, running safe hands up and down his spine until he relaxes and deflates. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Baekhyun squeaks, embarrassed now that everything is okay, embarrassed by the worry in Minseok's voice. He doesn't like to be a burden, doesn't like to feel shame, but he's too grateful of Minseok's beating heart to act on it, clinging until he feels safe again. Baekhyun pulls back with ragged breaths, a shaking leaf still as Minseok settles onto the bed and wraps two hands around one of Baekhyun's own.

"What happened?" Minseok prods gently, quiet and trembling. In his fear, Baekhyun has scared Minseok too, and he heaves another sullen breath of shame.

"I woke up alone," Baekhyun stares down, focusing on Minseok's hands, calloused but soft around his shivering palms. "I heard a loud noise and panicked. I thought something had happened to you and that they would-"

"Oh," Minseok breathes out in understanding, and his eyes are warmer than usual as Baekhyun finds himself encased in a crushing embrace, Minseok's lips on his forehead and those same soothing hands on his hips and up his sides reassuringly.

"No I'm here," Minseok says gently, and Baekhyun knows he's there but it's still nice to hear it, to feel Minseok right there beside him when not five minutes ago he'd been waiting for the end of it all. "I'm okay. We're okay."

Minseok repeats these words until Baehkyun has fully calmed, no longer trembling but squirming from the attention, embarrassed, cold and thirsty.

"I wasn't awake yet," Baekhyun mumbles, red faced. "I wasn't thinking properly."

"Hey, it's okay," Minseok says, touching his lips quickly to Baekhyun's lips, and then to Baekhyun's cheek, neck and fingertips. He smiles with warmth, lips crooked and very Minseok. Baekhyun heaves one last ragged breath before remembering the cause of his initial panic.

"Wait. What was the noise then," Baekhyun asks curiously, confused since his view his blocked by Minseok's torso. "What were you doing?"

Minseok shifts, grin changing from crooked to nearly bashful, and Baekhyun's curiosity wins, hands on Minseok's shoulders as he peeks around him. He lets out a quiet gasp, fingers digging into cloth and maybe skin as a wash of new emotion spreads from his fingertips through his entire mental body.

"Is that-" Baekhyun chokes up, betraying himself to his heart. He tires, slumping against Minseok in gratitude and weariness. He wants to sleep for the entire day now, to forget the snow and the dark and the chaos, but his eyes are lighting up with emotion and wonder. "Is that a Christmas tree?"

Minseok hums in response, fingers tugging gently through Baekhyun's hair, nails scratching his scalp just like Baekhyun has always loved. Baekhyun knows he can't put into words how he feels, knows that his voice cannot match the feeling that bubbles up. 

"You wanted Christmas," Minseok says quietly. "So we're going to have Christmas."

"And the lights?" Baekhyun asks, and he knows he shouldn't push, but he's suddenly excited, suddenly wondering how to pull it off. He slides down Minseok's torso to land halfway in and out of his lap, gazing up at him with a child-like love. "And the food? Can we make it special?"

"We'll do our best," Minseok says in a hushed voice, stripping of his outdoor clothes to climb into their bed and pull the blanket over the two of them. "Come here, let's rest for a while."

Baekhyun curls into Minseok's chest with a sigh once they're settled, heart racing but mind calmed. 

He can't wait for Christmas.

❄❅❆

Baekhyun stops singing somewhere between being a teenager and being something else. His voice loses meaning just like everything that isn’t Minseok’s constant presence, floating away into the sky with one last song. It sounds frail, broken words cracking from parted dry lips that desperately need the warmth of hope that not even Minseok can bring. 

Sometimes Baekhyun isn’t sure if Minseok himself is the hope that flutters over the top of the drifted snow, or if it’s just that Minseok has always been there, but what he is sure is that Minseok is there and that’s really what matters. But beauty has been lost, and Baekhyun has always been told his voice is beautiful, by his mother, by Joonmyun, by Minseok when he used to sing with his voice echoing against porcelain tiles, or muffled into the crook of a shoulder. 

So Baekhyun speaks instead, in soft words and sometimes raised voices and sometimes all that comes out are sobs. He thinks he’s hopeless, thinks that everything is hopeless but he always remember what Minseok has always said to him, words that have always made him think that Minseok sees things as more hopeless than he lets on. 

Because Minseok says that if Baekhyun still cares enough to cry that’s a good sign. That Baekhyun hasn’t given up and that he thinks the future holds something better than barren pathways and expanses of nothing. When Baekhyun had asked what that meant for Minseok, when Baekhyun had pointed out that Minseok doesn’t cry, Minseok had looked away, but his answer, cryptic and lost in the heavy winds, has stayed. 

“I care about the things I find in the snow.”

❄❅❆

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” A woman sits at a table that's not far from crumbling. She stares, not at Joonmyun but at the window, at the darkening sky outside of it. The sun is dimmer this year than ever, and the summer months have once again failed to fully melt the snow.

"Will _you_ be alright?" Joonmyun counters, and he too stares outside, wondering of the magnitude of the newest freak storm, a supposed side effect of whatever is actually going on with the climate, of whatever is happening to their world.

"You're at an age where you would have left home eventually anyways," She smiles warmly, but the way her eyes crinkle sends a pang of worry through Joonmyun's heart. He knows his mother is a strong person, but if Joonmyun leaves there's a chance he could never see his family again, and he doesn't want to leave her to a fate of raising Baekhyun alone in a place that could be ripped from beneath their feet at any moment.

"This is different." Joonmyun mutters, and yet he knows what she means, and he knows he probably would have traveled far anyways for his work. He just hadn't expected to leave so soon, and under such circumstances.

"I'll be fine," His mother insists, touch comforting when she places a hand over Joonmyun's. "I just worry about Baekhyun. He's too young to understand what's going on, with the world and with you leaving. And without his father around I worry he won't have-"

"Baekhyun's smarter than you think," Joonmyun is gentle, but his thoughts jolt when the wind begins to roar. He needs to find Baekhyun and bring him downstairs, where it's safer and where they can all be together. "He'll be a survivor, that's for sure."

"I just hope Siacom and you and the others on the team," She pauses, and swallows heavily. "I just hope you can figure out and fix whatever is going on with nature before he has to become one."

"I"ll do the best I can." Joonmyun says, and it's whisper soft, like he's afraid if he says the words loud enough they'll become too concrete. "I promise."

Her responding smile is far away.

❄❅❆

A piece of Minseok breaks every time he sees Baekhyun in pain, and he can't help him hold his head up high to the world that they live in. A piece that crumbles and falls from his heart and dissolves into the snow where it leaves no marks, the snow where nothing ever leaves any trace. What is dropped is lost in the next storm, when the wind blows the snow so smooth it covers all that it touches with a blanket of loss.

Yet Baekhyun tries so hard to recover every small thing, tries so hard to keep afloat when his own mind convinces him that sinking to the bottom is the right option. And Minseok is there to tug and pull and keep calm, to keep Baekhyun from diving to the bottom of their world where he'll never return.

He's always been there for that reason, ever since Baekhyun had been a fragile teenager hiding in the remains of his destroyed home, calling for a mother that will never return and dreaming of a brother that they'll never find.

Sometimes Minseok himself hopes that the music will play and the sun will come out, just for Baekhyun's sake. So that Baekhyun can laugh and smile more than once in a while, so that little bit of beautiful happiness that Baekhyun has so much of but refuses to see in their cold dead world could be permanent.

The wind picks up.

"We'll find another place," Minseok whispers, and resting his head on Baekhyun's. Baekhyun moves closer, hooking his legs around Minseok's waist and whimpering It's so desperate, so child-like that Minseok wants to cry, wants to make things the way they were just yesterday. But Minseok doesn't cry because he's not supposed to,

He's fixing the cuts on Baekhyun's hands, an ice cold touch against a wound that closes up quick. Beside them on the packed down snow is the music box that Baekhyun had fought so desperately to unearth, the one that plays the soft song that sounds like winter and yet not. It's not wound up, having not worked for years, but Minseok knows it's important for Baekhyun to have it.

"We need to get moving," Minseok says, glancing at the sky with worry, at the remains of a place they'd made into a constant poking through the snow that covers it. "I'll search through what's left and then we need to find somewhere to stay."

"Do you think we'll ever find a place that's our own again?" Baekhyun asks him, looking up with a kind of hope Minseok wishes he had, and instead of giving the practical, realistic answer he wants to give him, he too, searches for the hope of forever.

"We will," Minseok smiles, thumbs brushing over Baehkyun's hands. He can't be injured in a place like this, when they're unsure once again, and Minseok's heart fills with a dread for Baekhyun's condition, both mental and physical. "We'll find a place that belongs only to us."

_and this place once belonged to someone and it never quite belonged to us did it? we just borrowed it until it became nothing once again_

Perhaps there's an unfairness to Minseok's thoughts, but the only thing he cares about anymore is the safety, the happiness, the well-being of the boy he found long ago, and that's exactly what he devotes every bit of his energy, his heart and soul for.

Baekhyun may not see a place for beauty but Baekhyun has always been the most beautiful, in many ways and then in ways that transformed Minseok into someone he never used to be. Baekhyun may think he's useless, may think he's nothing while convinced that Minseok is everything, but there's many paths one can take in a situation where the world is hopeless and nothing may ever be better, and it's taking care of Baekhyun, falling in love with Baekhyun, that's lead him down the good one.

He finds a book with tattered pages in his search for their food, for their stored rations they need to make it even as far as the next town. It's the same book he's read to Baekhyun many times, the same words inked on dripping pages that he's spoken aloud next to a fireplace that kept them sane.

The book is destroyed, but Minseok is certain they both know the words off by heart now, both know how to wish the stars they cannot see a goodnight they will never hear.

He finds some food, enough to last them quite a while, piling it into the remains of a backpack he'd pulled, but their blankets, their rug, the clothing they'd collected is lost, gone, unfindable and unfixable.

"Wear your wraps," Minseok commands to Baekhyun once he's scavenged all they can bring, all that's in any shape to be traveled with them. For someone who complains of the cold, who complains of the unhappiness the ice brings him, Baekhyun never wears his hand wraps, never dresses properly, never makes an attempt to heat himself how he should. "Your hands need protection like that."

"I hate wearing them," Baekhyun complains, a whine that Minseok excuses in their situation, surprised at even his calmness with everything torn to pieces and dust before his eyes. "They make me feel trapped."

"Sacrifices for your health." Minseok says shortly. Maybe he is affected, maybe his heart is thudding too quickly and his skull is starting to constrict, thumping against the confines of his skin.

Baekhyun doesn't respond, but he looks at Minseok with eyes he's used to, the scared expression that tells Minseok he doesn't know what to do, tells Minseok that it's once again his job to make sure Baekhyun doesn't become dust that screams away into the wind. Baekhyun puts on his hand wraps though, and when Minseok takes hold of him to pull him away from the oncoming storm, he complains that he can't curl his fingers around Minseok's anymore.

Somedays Minseok wishes he wouldn't hold on so tight.

❄❅❆

"Sir. There are citizens outside the facility. They are waving and acting in the typical, deranged citizen manner. Permission to engage?"

Joonmyun pauses with his finger over the receiver, ready to give the static call to gun them down that he usually does without second thought. With news travelling quickly through the sparse population in these parts, it isn't often people risk walking up to Siacom's front doors, and Joonmyun can't remember the last time he'd heard the alert. Perhaps they have traveled far and aren't aware of protocol, but to Joonmyun, who lives everyday the same, even this tiny deviance from the norm has his ears perking up.

"Describe them" Joonmyun commands, voice echoing through the system like tin. His curiosity wins over his usual responsibility, his usual need to keep the facility safe and without outside intrusion.

"Er, small," Comes the reply. Joonmyun chuckles at the officer's hesitance. "And Asian I think?"  
Joonmyun hums. He hasn't seen an Asian in a long time, at least not in this part of Europe.

"They appear to be speaking Korean to each other sir," The officer continues, and this piques Joonmyun's interest. Their area never had much of a Korean population, and Joonmyun doubts they've traveled far enough to hop countries. He hasn't met anyone of his own ethnicity since leaving his family behind to work for the institute, and Joonmyun can't help but to think of his Mother and brother for the briefest of moments.

He remembers the hopeful sparkle in her eye as he'd said goodbye, as he'd set off to help save a dying word, and he remembers Baekhyun, remembers a child asking him with innocence if he'd be back soon. Joonmyun had said yes.

He hasn't been back since.

He'd gone off to save the world, and yet here he is a decade later, holed up in a safe place and not keeping anyone alive but himself.

"It's up to the world to save itself," Is what Yixing has said all those years ago when they'd realized what was going on, when they'd realized all thy could do was monitor the Earth and hope. Joonmyun hasn't checked the monitor in nearly two years, not since Yixing had left, and he doesn't expect it to look any different than when he'd last laid eyes on it.

He can see the cracks in the screen from where he sits now, the ones he'd furiously smashed into place in a fit of grief. Joonmyun isn't sure what grief feels like anymore, not at this point in his miserable, lengthy existence.

"Show me," Joonmyun croaks, palms clammy as they hit the call button. His voice is hollow, husky, and defeated.

The men on the screen are most definitely Korean, dressed in thick but simple winter wear, heavy bags slung over their shoulders and eyes trained upwards towards to the camera. They look better off than most he's seen, youth colouring their features, but Joonmyun can see the fatigue pouring from them.

Joonmyun squints, eyes settling on the one with windswept hair and intelligent, bright eyes that stares up at him with hope he hasn't seen in a very long time. Perhaps he's been trapped in Siacom for too long, perhaps he yearns for the companionship of someone he understands, but Joonmyun can swear he recognizes the look in those eyes, the features on that face.

_'you'll come back right?' a young boy with windswept hair and intelligent eyes tugs on his brother's hand, looking up with hope and fear. he's yet to understand what's going on, yet to understand that joonmyun is leaving and he won't be coming back, not until the world is fixed and everything is back in it's place._

_'of course I will,' joonmyun says with a gentle smile, wishing that the gap between them wasn't so large, that baekhyun could be old enough to understand, to maybe come with him. 'It's just a short trip.'_

_'the world turns on it's own,' baekhyun says with a tilt of his head, and joonmyun thinks the weight of that sentence means a lot more today than it had back then, innocent and yet tragically true. 'it can turn back where its supposed to be.'_

_the world turns on it's own, further and further from the sun, and perhaps it could turn back in the right direction, but joonmyun doesn't believe in hope anymore._

"Put me on the outdoor intercom," Joonmyun orders, eyes narrowing at the confused stutter of his officer. "Yes I'm sure."

"Alright sir," The officer responds, and Joonmyun feels no guilt when a name fails to accumulate in his mind to match the voice. He knows the facility has quite a few staff members left under his lead, but he has no need to learn of others not in a place like this.

Yet he wants to know the name of the boy outside, wants to bring the hope of him and his companion indoors.

"Greetings," Joonmyun echoes over the Siacom loudspeaker, causing the two to jolt with shock, staring around for the disembodied voice. "My name is Joonmyun and I am in command of this institute. I normally would have you executed and taken care of by this time, but your use of the Korean language interests me. State your names and purpose."

The familiar one looks frantic, but not in way of fear, an alarming flash of emotion running across his face, visible even through the staticky camera feed and the dim of the outdoor world.

"Kim Joonmyun?" The boy shouts, eyes widened, panicked. Joonmyun freezes at the use of his last name, and he stands up in his seat, breathing heavy. "Hyung?"

"State your names and purpose," Joonmyun repeats, keeping his voice cold and authoritative, though it threatens to waver. He feels lightheaded, and though his defenses are wired and active, a feeling rushes through him that he hasn't felt in years, the dull thud of hope sparking his way to his fingertips.

"My name is Byun Baekhyun, and this is my partner Minseok," The boy says, voice trembling. "I'm here to find my brother Kim Joonmyun. May-maybe you just share a name but he left to work at this location when I was younger. We wish to seek refuge."

Joonmyun silently paces the console room, heart pounding in a way he never thought would be possible again, irises shaking and limbs going numb.

"Let them in," He says to the officer over the private receiver, sitting back down in a bout of sudden fatigue, weariness breathing through him alongside the heavy thud of his chest.

His own brother, still a child when he'd gone, now an adult and _healthy_ , alive. And he hasn't forgotten him, hasn't grown up to resent his leaving. Joonmyun breathes slowly, calming himself as he waits, anxious energy overriding any rational thought or logic that could be pieced together to convince himself that this isn't the Baekhyun he'd help raise.

His officer appears at the door with a slight bow and two people in tow, disappearing the moment Joonmyun stands. Joonmyun looks into the certain eyes of his brother up close, recognizes everything about him, the same and yet different. He's a man now, though he's slight, thin from the food shortages. His companion is a bit sturdier, and Joonmyun's eyes settle on the protective hand that rests on Baekhyun's shoulder with interest.

He wonders if fate has returned to his side.

❄❅❆

Minseok only ever loses his temper with Baekhyun once.

It's sudden, an outburst of emotion that Baekhyun's never seen from Minseok, that Baekhyun never thought he would see from someone so calm, someone so hopeful, and yet a plate is smashing as Minseok throws it to the floor, as he glares at Baekhyun.

Baekhyun can barely see through his tears, choking on the words he was trying to get out just moments prior, a complaint, a worry, a misery, and now all he can see is blurry anger, frustration that he's never had to encounter before in his life.

His thoughts fall to pieces.

"I'm sorry," He says, and there's a hopelessness in his voice he knows he's unable to wrench from it, because the world is hopeless and now Minseok is yelling at him, loud even with the storm winds that howl against the sides of their cabin. "I'm sorry."

"You're not the only one who gets to be miserable you know," Minseok snaps, and it takes a while for the words to become words in Baekhyun's ears, to become more than just noise that hurts his head. "I do everything for you the best I can, I keep myself happy so that you'll be happy, and you constantly throw the world in my face with your negativity."

"I don;t mean to-" Baekhyun stutters, eyes widening and fingers clutching at a blanket that suddenly feels too cold. "I-"

"I take care of you when you can't walk, I smile and tell you things are okay when you complain they aren't," Minseok continues, and he's been holding this in a log time, Baekhyun thinks, has been wanting to explode. Baekhyun feels lost,because if Minseok is angry with him he has nothing left and the smallest bit of beauty and happiness held above the rest will leave with the storm. "I found us a place to live and I do all the work to make sure we can still live here, I get our food, I clean you, I-"

"You always have," Baekhyun tries to argue back, because he doesn't understand, can't wrap his mind around the misery he feels that projects itself to every corner of the room constantly. "I don't want to upset you."

"I've been doing this for years. I didn't have to rescue you from your town you know, but I did, " Minseok speaks a bit quieter now, but he doesn't move to Baekhyun like he usually does when Baekhyun cries, he just stands far away, cold and imposing in a room that feels larger and less like home than it should. "And I do all of this for you and you have never once acknowledged it in anything but tears, whining and unhappiness. Yes the world fucking sucks but we're supposed to have each other and we're supposed to make the best of it. I can't keep doing this if you won't help me do it."

All Baekhyun hears is that Minseok didn't want to rescue him.

"I didn't mean to become someone you didn't want," Baekhyun croaks, and maybe he still doesn't understand but he doesn't want to be a burden to anyone, doesn't want to be unwanted by the only person he actually cares about. Nothing else in this world wants him or them or anyone, and yet now Minseok doesn't want him, because he cries, because he's weak, because he's useless. "Would it be better if you could just do those things for yourself?"

"Baekhyun," Minseok sounds exasperated now, worse to Baekhyun's ears than raised voices or anger, because he feels like a child, scolded and told to hide while the adults do the things they need to do. "I want you here with me more than I want anything else, that's _why_ I do everything I do. But I just, I want to feel appreciated for once, like the things I do and say don't just go over your head. And sometimes yes it would be better because it would be easier but that's not what I meant that's not what I-"

"Then I'll go," Baekhyun lifts his head up and stands to his feet, a shaking leaf that's too fragile, an animal in shock that needs to run, needs to hide. "The world is ugly anyways. It' okay if it's easier without me. You've always needed me less than I needed you anyways."

Baekhyun doesn't even put on shoes, doesn't put on a jacket, doesn't care when those wouldn't block out the storm anyways. He ignores Minseok's voice, tunes it out until the noise feels far away and his frail bones are moving on their own, out their cabin's door and into the snow, into the wind and pain and cold.

He doesn't know how far he walks, ice cutting into his arms and air numbing his skin, each step causing a shiver to scream up his entire body until he no longer feels those either. Baekhyun had always worried, with every passing day and every passing emotion, that one day Minseok would wake up and not want him anymore. Had always worried that Minseok would realize Baekhyun is damaged and without hope, even with the love, the safety, with everything Minseok provides, that he will always be useless.

Baekhyun feels weak suddenly, staring at his hands as if they don't belong to him, unconcerned by the cold as his limbs slow down and his clothes feel too icy, trapping his body. He wonders if the sun will shine when he wakes up, if the cold will disappear when he lies down in the snow and takes a nap.

Except when he does lie down all he feels is pain, the kind of dull, numb throbbing that he remembers when he was young and didn't know how to survive. When his lips would go blue and his vision would blur and the only thing that had saved him then was the older boy that held him until he felt nothing but warmth and safety and happiness.

Everything hurts then, as Baekhyun understands the words he'd failed to understand back at the cabin, back in the streets and the fields and the snow and even back at that one hotel when he'd shot things down without a second thought to charge on with his own mind.

And Baekhyun realizes, with his breaths slowing down and his body shaking, that all the times he'd dreamt of a death like this, the real thing has never been something he's actually wanted.

❄❅❆

Joonmyun looks exactly the same as Baekhyun remembers him, except now there's a hollowness to his cheeks, and a deadness in his eyes that Baekhyun's grown accustomed to seeing in everyone he meets.  
Everyone that isn't Minseok that is.

It would be silly to expect Joonmyun to have missed the depression that spikes within nearly every living soul left or born into this reality. And Baekhyun may have been a child back when Joonmyun had left, but even he can tell the warmth Joonmyun's face once held has long since gone, though right now he's illuminated by shock.

"You have electricity," Baekhyun stutters in awe, and a shiver runs through him at the warm touch of his hand on a heated panel. He'd thought real electricity to be a myth, a wonder of the world he'd fabricated in his own memory from when society functioned properly, yet here he is, lit bulbs over his head and machinery whirring alongside his breathing.

A fireplace is nothing next to the safety that radiates from being surrounded with artificial life, with things that _work_ and when Baekhyun looks up awkwardly to see Joonmyun frozen in place he feels tears well up unsurprisingly.

"You probably don't recognize me but I-" Baekhyun stutters, feeling self-conscious and scared, aware of Minseok's hand slipping from his shoulder, but when he glances back he's met with a steady, watchful gaze.

Baekhyun realizes that he has to do this by himself, and that puts fear into his bones that even the winter could not, as the thought of rejection curls up his veins like poisonous vines. What if this isn't his brother?

"I do," Joonmyun answers, and Baekhyun meets his eyes from across the room, hesitance in his step and anxiety on the tips of his tongue. But Joonmyun is walking towards him, shuffling his feet to wrap his arms around Baekhyun gently.

And Baekhyun recognizes those arms, mind suddenly flooded with the knowledge of real memories, of things from the past that swim to the surface to be heard by his waiting thoughts. Of the sun, high in the sky as a teenage boy holds his arms above the water and commands him to kick. Of his Mother, laughing across a kitchen table at the same boy, who pushes Baekhyun's shoulder playfully until they're all laughing.

Of family.

"I can't believe you're still alive," Joonmyun mumbles, and his voice sounds hollow, cracking with an emotion Baekhyun doesn't quite catch to understand. "I thought for sure the whole family would be-"

"It's just me left," Baekhyun freezes up, rigid in Joonmyun's hold. He hasn't thought about his mother in a while, but her eyes, bright and then fluttering closed are there in front of his now closed eyelids.   
Optimistic until the very end she'd been, and though Baekhyun hadn't understood then either at the age of fourteen, the memory fills him with a sense of dread. "Mom tried really hard. She never gave up."

"She was always a strong woman," Joonmyun says with a faint smile, and it's the kind Baekhyun recognizes, the kind that Minseok has that comes with years of acceptance and of closure. Joonmyun has come to terms with this world, with the way things are in a way that Baekhyun is sure he never will. "You look healthy. I guess her spirit has always lived on through you."

"It's only because of-" Baekhyun pauses and pulls away from Joonmyun, turning to Minseok who stands awkwardly near the door. His face is impassive but polite, and Baekhyun desperately wants to seek his approval, to decode the thoughts that must be running through his always busy mind.

His hands wave frantically as he's overwhelmed by the situation, Joonmyun and the facility and _answers_ and _wants_ filling him at a sudden capacity of _too much_.

"Ah," Joonmyun blinks, as if he's just noticed Minseok's presence in the room. His face drains back to weariness as he takes him in, and it makes Baekhyun nervous, realizing that he has family again now. He glances at Joonmyun to seek a different kind of approval, one that he's not sure could come.

Joonmyun isn't the same person he was from years ago, isn't a teenager with hope and a genius ability to understand the scientific world around them. Joonmyun is wearied and middle aged and someone Baekhyun must learn to understand again.

 _and you_ his mind whispers. _must he understand you again?_

"I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for Minseok hyung," Baekhyun admits with a quiet tug in his voice, a shy hush in his words and confusion in his steps as his mind fights over whether to go to Minseok's side or stay with Joonmyun. "I'm actually kind of useless."

"I see," Joonmyun stares at Minseok for what seems to be a long time, eyes cold and piercing as they analyze. Minseok seems timid and unsure as he takes a step closer to the two, something Baekhyun isn't used to seeing. And like the endless winter, something he probably never could get used to. "I'm useless here too."

"But you know don't you?" Baekhyun asks, breath quickening and hands waving to the machines. Joonmyun motions for them to sit down, and there's a sigh in his voice as he responds.

"I haven't checked the monitors in a long time," Joonmyun says in defeat, eyes on a panel far away from them, one with jagged cracks that blur its feed. "But I do know."

 

"And what is it that you know?" Minseok asks. His voice sounds sharp, distrustful and cold, and Baekhyun doesn't quite understand the tension that seems to exist between Joonmyun and him so suddenly.

"Can I trust you?" Joonmyun asks Minseok in response, voice just as sharp.

"Can I trust _you?_ " Minseok repeats back, shifting in his seat and drawing Baekhyun closer to him, a natural occurrence that seems challenging in this scenario. It makes Baekhyun nervous, watching the two stare at each other, until it hits him a beat too slow.

 

They're both trying to protect him he realizes, though Minseok's fear seems more grounded. Joonmyun may be Baekhyun's brother, but Minseok has been with him for the past ten years as his sole caretaker and protector. To Minseok, Joonmyun must be a pinnacle of suspicion, a potential threat in the life they've built.

And Joonmyun, Baekhyun doesn't know how long he's been here alone, with just the staff to keep him company. Doesn't know where the full team of scientists and personnel he should have are. His heart hurts for Joonmyun, who looks focused and in control despite the glances he throws Baekhyun, the bits of eye contact.

They may have been separated for most of Baekhyun's life, but they're still family, and Baekhyun feels his heart soar. He wants to build and repair and find hope in this lit, warm place of wonders.

"Please trust each other," Baekhyun says in a small voice, fingers curling around his kneecaps with anxious energy. He wants to know, _needs_ to know what had happened to the world to make him grow up in constant fear of his life, and though this meeting is important, the fate of the Earth feels much more so.

"The Earth fell out of orbit with the sun," Joonmyun says solemnly, and he slumps back in his chair with a shrug. "That's all that happened. It moved further and further away until the sun's energy wasn't strong enough and an ice age stronger than any we would have had in our regular orbit was triggered."

"So it's-" Baekhyun goes rigid. "It can't be fixed?"

"Only monitored," Joonmyun says, eyes not on either of them but on the windows that frame the wall. They've just narrowly escaped the gusts of a storm, and the wind howls against the panes. "Left to wait in near destruction to see if the Earth ever falls back into proper orbit. That's the thing about our planet. It was always just the right distance from the sun to be perfect."

"Has it shown any signs?" Minseok asks, and he's glancing at the machines near them with muted interest. Baekhyun follows his gaze with intent to find the one that shows them the answers, the orbit of the Earth in real motion.

 

"It fell into a steady, new orbit," Joonmyun says quietly. "That was two years ago. I haven't- I haven't turned on the machine since then."

"So you don't know?" Minseok sounds angry, sending nervous energy to Baekhyun. He looks at Minseok in alarm and worry, ready to stand if anything were to go wrong. "It could have changed and you'd never know."

"I don't want to know," Joonmyun isn't looking at them again, body turning away. _Broken_ is the word that jumps to Baekhyun's thoughts, and it makes him wonder about himself briefly about the negativity that pours from him when Minseok suggests a change in the death that surrounds their daily lives.

"Power it up," Minseok says in a low voice, curling a hand around Baekhyun's wrist to let him know that it's okay, that they'll be alright and he doesn't need to panic. Baekhyun isn't surprised that he's been read, that Minseok could tell without looking that he'd be on the brink of a _Baekhyun moment_.

 

"That'll take a while since it hasn't been used in so long," Joonmyun admits a bit sheepishly, voice still cold and eyes still defeated and empty. "The generator will have to siphon power slowly."

"We can wait," Baekhyun says with widening eyes. "I did say we wanted to seek refuge I- you won't send us back out will you?"

"You I would never," Joonmyun says earnestly, but his tone sends a spark of fear into the atmosphere of Baekhyun's consciousness. "I don't know about your friend."

The way he says friend is patronizing, insulting almost, and though Baekhyun understands Joonmyun's lack of interest in trusting a stranger, a flash of anger builds in his system.

"Partner," Baekhyun corrects, and even he's surprised by the change in his voice to match Joonmyun's. "He took care of me and you didn't. So you will not harm him. If you do, I go with him."

"Over your own brother?" Joonmyun asks with a cracking voice, and Baekhyun knows his words have worked. He was right in thinking that they're very different, practically strangers in this life, and that they must rebuild.

"You're my brother," Baekhyun says bravely, courage seeping through him from the root of Minseok's hand around his own. "But he's the only family I've had since I was fourteen. And you- you left when I was eight, Joonmyun."

"I'll turn the power to the space station feed on," Joonmyun says in a level voice, gaze fixated on somewhere beyond them once again. "My officer will give you a room to sleep in and I will alert you when the results are active."

"Thank you," Minseok answers for Baekhyun. His voice is no longer sharp but soft in understanding as he takes in Joonmyun one last time. "I won't bother you, but do not shut Baekhyun out."

Joonmyun nods and turns away from them. He doesn't look back, even when they've been escorted out, and the door has closed behind them.

Baekhyun doesn't let out the breath he's been holding until they're alone, the click of the door leaving them in heavy silence.

 

They're safe.

❄❅❆

The snow feels wet today, squishing under their feet, and it shocks Baekhyun because it's never like this, not even during the nice season, and he wonders if he's going crazy.

"Do you believe me now?" Minseok says, padding over to Baekhyun with a kind of smile in his eyes but not on his lips. Perhaps the light, the hope in his features is because Baekhyun had done something useful, had found them new boots and a flashlight with still working batteries to travel at night, but whatever it is, Minseok's spirits are higher than usual, and his emotions seem grounded.

It grounds Baekhyun's emotions as well, has him soaring above the snow and feeling the warmth of a sun that might actually be shining through the clouds for once. It's not new, this feeling of warmth and this understanding that this year has been warmer than the last, slightly more bearable, but he's been ignoring Minseok's insistence.

Because there are still the bad nights, still the times when the storms scream and everything seems futile, still the times when they lose all hope and their feet frozen to the rocks beneath the snow. And yet something feels different now.

"I still feel cold," Baekhyun murmurs, and he catches the way the light ceases to shine for a moment in Minseok's large, perfect eyes. "But I believe you, because it's less cold than before. Though it might be because I've experienced worse and can now see what's better."

"What's better is that you're more beautiful than ever when you smile," Minseok says suddenly, light returning to his irises and a hint of a grin on his lips. Baekhyun is smiling, because the snow is deep and the wind is cold, but it doesn't feel like they're struggling to survive. Something deep in his heart feels right, like they might find a home soon, like Minseok's beauty might encase the world and bring back everything Baekhyun has ever wished for.

Baekhyun's cheeks flush red, and the warmth feels like a beacon against his skin. He wonders briefly, if sunlight feels like a blush. Maybe then, with the sun shining and its constant warmth touching his cheeks, he could learn to love the cool feeling that comes with the snow.

The soft sounds of the Ice Dance box float into Baekhyun's thoughts and he finds himself searching through his pack as they walk to pull it out. He weakly winds up the handle in hopes that it'll work, shaking it even, because he suddenly wants to hear, suddenly wants imagine himself dancing in a soft snowfall and being happy about, feeling like things could be normal and better and just like his blurry childhood one day.

He nearly drops it when it starts playing, when the dings of a song burst forth as the handle turns on its own, slow and weak and yet _working_. The music of the radio feels like nothing compared to the meaning this box holds for Baekhyun, a reminder long ago that beauty and hope could be found even in the snow.

He glances to Minseok, whose mouth hangs open and eyes dance, and then to the sky, where he can imagine the clouds, thinner than before, opening up to allow the world something better.

"I think the gears inside must have been frozen," Minseok says once the box stops playing and Baekhyun has resisted the need to wind it up once more. He's afraid that it won't play if he does it again, so he thinks he'll wait until they find somewhere warm to sleep, where it can become a melody and Minseok can find hope in the sounds as they fall asleep. "It really must be warmer if they're turning again."

"Do you think so?" Baekhyun says, breathless and full of a soft kind of wonder. His cheeks still feel warm, a blush that doesn't come from outside but from within his heart, and he wonders if this is how Minseok got used to the cold.

"I think so."

They stop in to sleep in a small house that won't survive another half a storm, but that's enough for at least one night of safe rest when the weather is warmer and the winds are calmer. The music box plays nicely, a never ending sound that Baekhyun repeats and repeats. He almost hums along, nearly sings again, but the sound is so weak that even Minseok doesn't catch it.

Still, the feeling of beauty is there, reflected back in the way Minseok settles around him like a routine he never wants to ever break again.

Through the trees, a little ways up from where they walk, a building that never sleeps hums, powered by invention and housed by the hope of a man whose heart has long ago died. It won’t take them but another few hours of walking to reach it, feet through snow and music box ringing in the clear air of the warmer season.

 _Siacom Headquarters_ , the lettering above it's snowed over front doors reads.

❄❅❆

"Do you think Siacom will ever get the chance to build a community like they wanted?" Yixing asks Joonmyun one day over a game of cards. The curtains are closed today, bathing them in fake light provided by a power source that shouldn't belong to them alone. "I mean, we have the reactors, the power source. Surely another headquarters has the manpower?"

"With communication cut off who knows," Joonmyun says sadly, leaning on his palm while Yixing shuffles. "Look at us do nothing. There's a well established town growing on something bigger just near here and we're not helping."

"You and I both know there's no point in releasing the power when we don't know if the Earth will ever return where it should," Yixing is quiet, placing the cards in formation with the kind of care he only gives to objects that aren't living. "The only thing to do is wait."

"And waste the power," Joonmyun snorts, a bitter noise. "One year at a time."

"If I ever come back," Yixing is humming his words, like he doesn't feel a care or a worry, flipping Joonmyun's cards without a word. It's a game they'd invented on their own, way back when they were still young and the project had hope, back when Joonmyun was smart and Yixing was brave.

They're neither now.

"We'll use the power to help those near us," Yixing smiles, and Joonmyun wonders, if its selfish or not of Yixing to search for family before helping those he knows are alive first. "Whether or not the universe has allowed the Earth to fix itself."

"And if you don't come back?" Joonmyun asks in a frail voice. Yixing is the only friend he has here, the only person in the dwindling staff that has a personality, that matches Joonmyun's ever step with one of his own.

"Its' up to you whether or not you stay here alone for your whole life until the power is gone," Yixing shrugs, still smiling. "Or you get Todd and the others to help you save at least one town."

"They only listen to me because I have the food stores," Joonmyun mumbles. "They don't care about my authority or helping others."

"They could." Yixing says, leaning back in his chair and glancing over his shoulder at the ever beeping monitors. Joonmyun wants to turn them off forever and shut the world out, to pretend that something will change if he hides away.

"I hope you find your family." Joonmyun pushes the cards towards Yixing. He's done playing for the day.

"I hope so too." Yixing says softly, and for once a shimmer of doubt, of uncertainty slips into his tone, before he's shaking it off to smile again. "I hope I do."

Joonmyun explains about the generators while the machines around them whir to life, beeping and slow from disuse, old technology unable to be updated and maintained without the proper people and equipment.

"One of them is enough to power an entire large city for about two years," He tells them, tone clipped and actions mechanical. He avoids looking at Minseok, only addressing Baekhyun with eyes that betray no emotion. "But the plan was never set into motion because we couldn't fix the Earth and none of the communities of people could be grouped and helped. So Siacom was abandoned and the government dissolved."

"We heard a radio show though," Baehyun says with a frown. "There's a town that sounds like they have good community. Like they have hope and a future."

"My co partner said that I should wait until he returned, and that we shouldn't if there's no point." Joonmyun looks briefly lost, but the fear in his eyes reminds Baekhyun of his own, when he refused to see a future, when he refused to feel any emotion but misery.

He's a long way away from better, but Baekhyun feels a twinge of anger knowing the resources Joonmyun has at his disposal that he doesn't use, knowing that he hasn't even checked whether the orbit has changed. And it-

"It has changed," Minseok says in a hushed whisper from the other side of the room, and Baekhyun wonders when Minseok had left his side, when he'd wandered to stare into the monitor of the largest machine. "Not by a lot, but the circle has been getting smaller steadily for the past three years."

Minseok turns to them now, and Baekhyun sees the anger he feels reflected upon Minseok's features. But the impact on the information covers the bitterness, covers the disappointment at Joonmyun for giving up because the word future is suddenly different.

It doesn't hit Baekhyun at first, what this means because he's still trying to understand the Earth's orbit in the first place, so used to the way the world is that he'd never actually imagined anything changing for the better.

But then it hits him. Minseok's comments about the weather being warmer, Minseok's comments about the snow melting, Minseok's comments about the storms being less. And Baekhyun had ignored him because Minseok had always been the more hopeful one, and yet Baekhyun remembers right before they'd found Siacom, when the music box had finally played again and the ground had been wet beneath his feet.

"Let's-" Joonmyun stutters, and he looks lost, confused, eyes large and hands moving around in the air. "Let's hope it. Let's hope it keeps going closer then."

"Will things be okay?" Baekhyun's voice is small, and though there's a storm outside, raging and dangerous and full of ice, his body shakes with something other than fear.

"I think," Minseok also looks a little lost, and Baekhyun wonders afterwards if Minseok's hope had only been for Baekhyun's sake like he'd once said while pulling his lifeless body from the snow. When Minseok had thought Baekhyun was dead and tried to warm him up, when he'd muttered that his only hope was one day seeing the world changed and Baekhyun happy. "I think so."

Joonmyun's eyes flutter closed and his body hits the floor with a loud thump, but neither Baekhyun nor Minseok move to him, too busy staring, at each other, out the widows, at the beeping green line that shows the Earth orbiting the sun, too close to Mars one day and now closer to Venus.

Baekhyun remembers what he'd said to his mother all that time ago, when he was a child that hadn't understood when no one knew what was happening to the Earth and naivety ran rampant.

 _if it wasn't always gone it can come back_.

❄❅❆

When Baekhyun sees the sun as an adult it's as if he's never seen it before in his life, as if the sky has opened up and allowed him to come home. A myth that bathes the world in the briefest of light, that gives even the snow it's own distinct, glittering colour.

It doesn't appear for very long, shining through a break in the clouds that has Baekhyun freezing in his spot, power container in hand and eyes, not on the sky but on Minseok. It's bright, even with it shining through the clouds dimly all these years, so bright that Baekhyun has to squint before he can see again, has to adjust to something he barely remembers adjusting to as a child.

Minseok doesn't notice at first, head inside the machine that houses the power containers, that gives Joonmyun his source of safety, but it illuminates him, and Baekhyun sees colour like he's never seen it before. And when Minseok looks up, when he stands and turns towards Baekhyun with widened eyes, Baekhyun could swear his heart stops beating.

Because Minseok's hair shines, and his eyes sparkle when the light catches them, sending warmth into Baekhyun's heart, into his soul and the places the cold of the storms had closed, the places he'd boarded shut to keep safe. Even when the clouds close back up and the sun is gone, when the world seems even darker than before, the sight of the trees and the snow and the Siacom building lit up burn themselves into Baekhyun's mind, the sight of Minseok in a way Baekhyun has never seen him, in a way he's always dreamed of but could never quite bring to light.

Baekhyun only has one word, can only think one thing as he drops the power container and begins to cry. The kind of tears he rarely ever cries, and the kind of emotions he's forgotten he knows how to feel, even with the news of the orbit changing, even with the safety of heat and the happiness of seeing Joonmyun again.

Because Minseok, with shining eyes and golden brown hair, with skin that glistens under the glow of natural light, is the most beautiful thing Baekhyun has ever seen. And he understands now, what it means to see beauty, what it means to feel the emotion of something when it looks wonderful.

Minseok is yelling something, about the world being okay, about them being okay and about things being able to rebuild, to change when the sun finally comes back and the seasons are nice again. He sounds so happy, so peaceful, so enthusiastic, embracing Baekhyun to speak about telling Joonmyun, to speak about the future and the thought of the word _okay_ finally being just that again.

Baekhyun stares at him, with his own shining eyes and his body shaking, and he sees a look of concern take over Minseok because Baekhyun is _emotion_. He shouldn't be emotional like this, in the way that tricks one into thinking he's sad, into thinking he'll need to be taken care of, but words cease to touch his tongue when the world is suddenly so beautiful.

"You're so beautiful," Is what Baekhyun finally gets out, and Minseok doesn't seem to understand, looking happy but confused, arms around Baekhyun, cold weather and chores forgotten in his need to be so close. "In the sunlight, you're so beautiful."

The world finally has a place for beauty, and Minseok isn't the closest thing to it Baekhyun has ever seen, isn't the almost he's been stubbornly clinging to since age fourteen. No, Minseok is just beauty in it's truest form and the sunlight is everything Baekhyun's ever wanted it to be, everything he wants it to be over and over and over again for the rest of his -- their -- lives.

And though emotions usually constrict Baekhyun's chest, usually make him feel trapped and weak, the emotion of _hope_ only makes him feel free.

❄❅❆

Minseok's voice is hoarse, emptied of sound and weaker than the wind even as it calms and the storm becomes still air around him. His limbs are numb, tired from running through snow that reaches his waist, from slipping on shards of ice that threaten to break through his skin.

Yet none of it matters because Baekhyun is somewhere out here and Baekhyun is a beacon in Minseok's life that's failing to shine brightly in the darkness and be found. It's an image in his mind that will haunt him forever, the utter hopelessness in Baekhyun's eyes, and the feeling of his heart shattering when the door had slammed closed.

None of what Minseok had even said matters now. Not when Baekhyun hadn't even been wearing any fucking shoes, not when the world is dangerous and hurtful and Baekhyun doesn't deserve any of this and Minseok should have kept his mouth shut.

Because he forgets sometimes that this is all Baekhyun's ever known and Minseok has protected him from the first day without saying a word otherwise and to expect Baekhyun to understand, to expect him to listen to yelling and outbursts was too much, too selfish.

Minseok stumbles, crying out in frustration because he can't find Baekhyun's tracks when the snowdrifts have blown over so quickly, when all that surrounds him are trees and darkness and nothing to tell him where Baekhyun is.

Because the chances of Baekhyun's survival, of Baekhyun still being alive are close to none, and it's all Minseok's fault, because all he'd wanted was for Baekhyun to understand and instead he'd been hurtful.

"Baekhyun," Minseok calls out again, but his voice is a croak and the darkness swallows it raw, taking Minseok's will to keep going with it. His legs move on autopilot, in every direction at once and in circles, until all he can see is the same thing, repeating over and over.

Baekhyun is gone.

Minseok's tears freeze as they touch his face, droplets of ice on his cheeks and maybe he'd been wrong too, about the world getting warmer and about things getting better because nothing is better and nothing will ever be better when Baekhyun is gone.

Minseok stumbles over something solid, hands that are already numb screaming in pain as they touch the cold, icy ground and snow comes up to his shoulders. He scrambles to his feet to see what he'd tripped over, vision blurring and thoughts empty.

Minseok recognizes the shirt he sees in the snow and he careens forwards, possibly screaming and possibly making no noise at all, pulling Baekhyun's lifeless body from the snow and desperately wiping the ice off it, desperately searching for a pulse against a cold neck.

He finds none, with his fingers numb and the wind picking back up, and Minseok is so tired and so weak. But he carries Baekhyun, because maybe he's dead and maybe he's gone but he doesn't deserve to be left in the snow.

Minseok speaks he walks, nonsense that spills from his lips in a bout of something he can't control, the kind of meltdown that he's never allowed Baekhyun to see. And maybe that's why Baekhyun has never been able to understand, because Minseok has never allowed him to understand. Because Minseok has always been a certain type of person for Baekhyun, the type of person that Baekhyun needs and maybe Baekhyun hadn't been prepared for this side of him, for the type of person Minseok was but wasn't always.

Baekhyun has always been the reason Minseok strives to see the hope and beauty around them, the light that shines even in the darkest places, because Baekhyun has lost that hope, and has lost that beauty and yet he _is_ the light that shines while the sun is gone, and he _is_ the beauty that has never been quite lost.

Without Baekhyun breathing and laughing and warm, and even crying and screaming and sad, there is no beauty and no hope. With Baekhyun still on their bed, body cold even with the blankets surrounding him, even with Minseok fighting to slowly warm him up, tears still frozen to his cheeks and rationality struggling to hold long enough, there is suddenly no hope.

"I'm sorry," Minseok manages, with his fingers wrapped around Baekhyun's cold ones and the tiniest, tiniest idea that Baekhyun could wake up. His breaths are there but they're shallow, and his body only shakes the slightest bit. The fire roars behind him and Minseok cries more because it's not enough and Baekhyun will never warm up again because his Minseok is no longer his Minseok. "I'm so sorry I did this to you."

Minseok doesn't know how long he stays there, with Baekhyun's hands gathered up in his and his head on Baekhyun's chest waiting for it to be livelier, but his body is becoming weak as it succumbs to his own pains and aches. His eyelids flutter, struggling to stay afloat when Baekhyun is becoming so warm and Minseok is so so tired, both from his anger and his regret and the searching, the crying.

From all the emotions that come out at once when he shows nothing but the best sides of himself to someone who only sees him as those best sides.

Then it hits him that Baekhyun is _warm_ , and that means he's still alive and that means there's hope. There's still hope and Minseok is shooting up into a sitting position to stare at Baekhyun, to hold his hands to Baekhyun's cheeks and hope he wakes up, hope he lives and breathes. He doesn't care if Baekhyun hates him as long as Baekhyun is alive and knows that Minseok wants him more than he wants anything else in this world because in this world there isn't anything else to want.

"I'm cold," Baekhyun mutters, fingers closing weakly around one of Minseok's hands that still sits at his side. He doesn't open his eyes but he frowns, and his limbs shake slightly, as if still too cold to acclimate to the heat of the fire. "Why did you stop holding me."

Minseok bursts into tears, and it's not something he does often, not something he does ever, but he sobs and he grabs Baekhyun's face, apologizing over and over and over again until Baekhyun has gathered up the strength to put a hand over his mouth.

"It's okay," Baekhyun says, opening his eyes to reveal the trust that has always been there. "I'm just really cold. Please stop crying."

Minseok doesn't move at first, but the fear is still there because Minseok knows how hypothermia works, and Baekhyun may be alive, may be breathing and warming up but he's ice cold to his core. He crawls into the bed and wraps himself around Baekhyun, pressing as close as possible, and his hands never leave Baekhyun's own.

"I'm sorry." Minseok says, words flimsy as they leave his mouth once again. Baekhyun hushes him, eyes opening but closing again too quickly, weak and tired and shaking against Minseok's chest.

"It's okay," Baekhyun says before falling asleep. "It's okay."

❄❅❆

Joonmyun's officers leave much in the same way Yixing had. One by one once Minseok and Baekhyun arrive once they hear that the world could be okay, that things may one day return to normal. They have hope, to join the town that cheers for a better future on the small radios around the facility, to spread the news to not give up.

Joonmyun commends them for an ability he himself is too weak to have. There's a guilt that tears through him, strong and violent, because Baekhyun deserves a better sibling than him. His mother, long dead and yet still so beautiful in his mind, deserves a son better than one that gives up in the face of dread.

Though the news is good and Siacom's work is not lost, his work is not lost, Joonmyun is dead inside, wrapped up in all the pain he hasn't allowed himself to feel in years, the selfishness in which he hid himself in ignorance and solitude.

It's just the three of them in the Siacom Headquarters now, and though its been time since they'd started monitoring the orbit again, Joonmyun still hasn't realized the meaningfulness of what could be. Not without Yixing here, and not with the knowledge that he could have gained hope last year, or even the year before.

But Joonmyun had been too busy wallowing in the feeling of being abandoned, in the idea that nothing could ever change, that they would drift further and further from the sun until the Earth could no longer sustain life. He'd thought he would never see Baekhyun again, especially not as the man he is now, smart but distant, attached to a stranger that Joonmyun knows is someone of caliber, of hope and yet feels distaste towards.

Minseok and Baekhyun pull their weight though. They monitor the security feeds and change the mini power cells to the heaters. They make sure the linens are clean and sometimes Joonmyun catches Baekhyun watching the machines with fascination in his eyes. It saddens him, knowing that Baekhyun probably can't remember technology and electricity the way he, and possibly Minseok can.

They're in good spirits today because the sun shone for a brief moment, but Joonmyun is still holed up in his guilt and shame and sorrow. With his windows covered and his mind sad he hadn't seen the sun at all, had just seen the darkness of a curtain and the emptiness of his own mind.

His intercom beeps.

"This hasn't happened before uh," The voice starts, nervous and confused. It's Baekhyun, calling him on the old security channel his officers once used to alert him of visitors. Joonmyun sits up slowly, placing a hand over the respond button but Baekhyun's words have him pausing. "I know you said to turn away anyone that comes but he says he used to work here."

"What's his name?" Joonmyun asks, curious but wary. He doesn't bother getting his hopes up when the facility once housed over a hundred staff, any of which could come back after leaving and none of which could be Yixing.

"Yixing," Baekhyun says slowly, struggling around the Chinese syllables he isn't used to saying. "He says you better let him in."

"Open the doors." Joonmyun responds in a rush of words, leaping to his feet with a thudding of his chest and a shortness of breath.

He practically runs to the front lobby, shirt untucked and hair unbrushed, skidding to a halt in front of a man he hasn't seen in three years, someone who looks very much the same and yet different. Wearier and not as clean cut, with worn out clothing and messy hair, but still the same.

"You came back," Joonmyun breathes, hesitant and unsure and very aware of Baekhyun's curious gaze hitting the back of his head. "You're _alive_."

"I told you I would come back," Yixing says with an airy laugh, and he really hasn't changed, eyes raking across the ceiling, the walls, flickering to Baekhyun before landing on Joonmyun. "You have new company? I ran into a man outside and he said he knew you. He was cute too."

Joonmyun blinks. "Minseok?" He asks, frowning. He glances back at Baekhyun, who looks affronted at Yixing's compliment, but also confused as to whether he should come closer or not.

"Possibly," Yixing shrugs, stepping towards Joonmyun with a smile on his face. "Short. Big eyes. Looks like a cat."

Joonmyun nods, and its' all so casual but he's starting to sway on the spot because his legs have gone numb. It seems complete all of a sudden, his world. There's a town somewhere that thrives, his brother is with him and the world is on the mend. And Yixing is back, standing in front of him with his same smirk and far away eyes.

"I need to sit down." Joonmyun announces, and turns away from Yixing to walk to the console room. It's a decision based on dignity, a refusal to be weak in front of Yixing, something he's always tried to do but has always failed at. Things are swimming and Joonmyun isn't sure how to approach the dull happiness that blooms in his chest because he's never felt like this before.

Not since Baekhyun had been born and he'd decided to become a better student, become a better person. After all, it was Baekhyun's existence in the world that had convinced him to go into environmental sciences and make the world a better place. A better place for his family to flourish and his mother to be happy raising a child, _another child_ on her own.

Joonmyun never makes it to the main console room to sit down however, because Yixing is hugging him tight, an action that sends a shock to his system and emotion into his eyes. He turns in Yixing's hold with his mouth open and his eyes wide, comical and confused in the moment because Yixing has never been one for physical contact, at least not with him.

"I think it's time to finish the project, don't you?" Yixing says, grabbing Joonmyun's face and squeezing his cheeks and for a moment Joonmyun swears he's about to kiss him, but Yixing is laughing and letting go, a grin upon his features that sings of the hope none of them used to have. "I saw the sun today."

"So did I." Baekhyun yells from the corner, pushing himself away from the wall just as Minseok returns from outside with the empty power cell container in tow, amusement on his features at Baekhyun's outburst.

"Yixing," Joonmyun says weakly as Baekhyun runs up beside him. "I'd like you to meet my brother, Baekhyun and his partner Minseok."

Joonmyun thinks he'll never forget the happiness on Yixing's face or the way his eyes light up, because it's always meant so much to him, what Yixing thinks and if Yixing is happy and if Yixing approves.

Especially because Yixing has arrived alone, and Joonmyun thinks later on that he was given two kinds of closure in that moment. One family may be gone but the other has been pieced back together, fragile but nearly whole.

❄❅❆

"I love you." Baekhyun says, to Minseok and to the sky and to the sun that warms the bare skin of his arms. He stands on solid ground, with the snow melted around him, and Minseok by his side.

It's beautiful.

"I love you too." Minseok responds, automatic and yet not without feeling because they aren't a routine and they will never become a routine.

There's too much hope for that.

"Do you remember back at the cabin," Baekhyun says, and he's not surprised to find tears in his eyes. "When I asked if you remembered summer?"

"I do." Minseok says slowly, eyebrow raised in question. They're standing in the backyard of a newly repaired house, one they share with Joonmyun and Yixing, a gift from the townspeople. A collaborative effort to repay Siacom for the three power cells, enough for six years of thriving happiness. And there's more still, back at the facility, but those can wait, for bigger towns and more rebuilding, for the happiness of years and years to come.

"This summer was more beautiful than the summers I remembered," Baekhyun says in a breathless voice. "Yixing says it's going to snow tonight. And you know what?"

Minseok hums, cocking his head to the side and waiting, a curious smile on his lips.

"I'm excited," Baekhyun's eyes crinkle, a feeling he's not quite used to yet, real smiles and loud laughter and the brightness that surrounds them always. They've been in the town for a year now, but this house is new, and the future finally belongs to him and Minseok, a place just their own. Minseok had promised that once, while fixing the wounds on Baekhyun's hands, that they would have something their own, and he'd been right. "It's not that I miss the snow and the cold but now it's in the right place and I want to see."

He glances down at the scars on his fingers, mentally tracing the lines, cracked and yet beautiful.

"The snow will fall and it won't hurt." Minseok says, taking Baekhyun's hand in his own to tug him back inside where Yixing is waiting to teach them a card game he loves so much.

But they never get to learn because the snowflakes fall in beautiful lumps, slowly and not like a storm. And Baekhyun runs upstairs when it happens to get something important to him, something that reminds him of the worst times of his life and yet the best times also.

He winds up the tiny handle of a music box, standing with the front door of their home open and his eyes shining. For once in his life Baekhyun doesn't fear the snow, and looking at the falling petals of white that litter the ground, beautiful in the fading light of the day, he understands what true beauty is.

As the first notes of the song, _Ice Dance_ , play, Baekhyun runs out into the snow to experience a reality he'd dreamt about for years. He dances in the falling ice and understands why someone would want to, twirling and laughing and grabbing Minseok's hand when he ventures out to join him.

He doesn't feel broken anymore, doesn't feel the all encasing misery, because the world isn't falling down upon his head and the snow isn't hitting him like daggers of cold that close his thoughts inside for good.

It's beautiful, and Minseok is beautiful too, and all the nights, traveling and wandering and trapped, good or bad, hold more meaning now then they ever have before. It's cold outside but Baekhyun feels free, holding his hands up to the sky to catch the snowflakes and hold them close.

Baekhyun's world no longer exists only in shades of white and grey. It exists in colours that cascade into his eyes and around him, greens and blues and reds and yellows, sparkles that touch his fingertips and sift through his thoughts. Baekhyun's world is no longer just ice and cold and snow. He can look up into the sky and see the sun when he wants, and the moon and the stars, and sometimes, sometimes there's still clouds and there's still dust, but the ice can no longer hurt him.

When he turns to Minseok with light in his eyes and hope on his tongue, Baekhyun remembers that the sun has always shone in his life, because even in the falling snow Minseok is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

❄❅❆

Epilogue

Christmas is coming. 

There are lights up all over town, bright ones that Yixing constructed on his own. It uses extra power from the generators, but no one minds when they're blanketed in familiarity and beauty, in a holiday that reminds them that things have a routine again. A traditional kind of safety even Minseok seems to find happiness in, smiling at children and getting Yixing to make Baekhyun a string of his own. 

They're decorating a tree, Baekhyun up on a chair to put a home made sun on top. _not a star because the sun is the brightest and most important star and has a spot even in the dark of winter_. 

When Baekhyun comes down he looks proud, staring up at his tree with a glint in his eyes and peace in his smile. He looks at Minseok with something in his expression Minseok can't quite catch and he finds himself on the cushions of their bed with Baekhyun looking intent, but nervous. 

It makes Minseok nervous to see Baekhyun nervous, an emotion he hasn't seen in a while, and Minseok breathes in deep, bracing himself for what's to come. 

"This feels like a proper Christmas," Baekhyun starts, reaching out to tug at Minseok's fingers, eyes flicking from side to side. "It makes me happy." 

"It makes me happy also," Minseok says honestly, slipping his fingers into Baekhyun's if only to stop his fidgeting. "I like seeing you happy."

"We're nearly settled," Baekhyun's grin is lopsided, cute and youthful and full of life. "I figure next year will feel even better because we'll be familiar."

"Mhmm," Minseok pulls a lock of Baekhyun's hair from his face. The lights from the tree are kind of calming in a way, rainbow colours that glow softly and illuminate the roundness of Baekhyun's cheeks. 

"And we're together, yeah," Baekhyun looks away and then back, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "So I figure next year we can be extra together."

"Extra together," Minseok repeats dumbly, and Baekhyun's almost lost him until his eyes are widening slightly with understanding. "Do you mean like-"

"Christmas should belong to a family I think." Baekhyun grins, but the anxiety flows from him and into Minseok through their connected fingers. "There are a lot of orphaned children and I just thought if we get you know-" Baekhyun waves his free hand around, as if afraid to say the word, but Minseok understands. "Then we could be a family."

"You want to adopt a child?" Minseok says in shock, staring at Baekhyun. It's startling, and his emotions go uneven, jagged edges and sharp corners but not in a negative way, just new. 

"Well I-" Baekhyun pauses and then laughs. "I mean I'm practically a child that's what everyone says but I want to."

"We have a whole year to work up to it then." Minseok says, surprised at how easily the decision comes to him, but maybe not so much when Baekhyun's eyes sparkle and he smiles in a way that he used to never smile, wide and unafraid. 

"Thank you," Baekhyun chokes on his words, pillowing himself suddenly against Minseok, and it's jarring almost, the familiarity in the action. Minseok is brought back to a time when they'd sat curled in front of a fire, and all the times Minseok had heard Baekhyun thank him for small things that are really everything. "Thank you so much. For everything." 

"You've always been the one who needs to be thanked," Minseok says quietly, soft enough that he's sure Baekhyun nearly doesn't catch it. "There's just one thing."

"What?" Baekhyun says, looking worried as he sits up in Minseok's arms, hands draped over his shoulders and eyes shaky. 

"Is there room for beauty in this world?" 

"There is," Baekhyun says with a nod, concrete and meaningful and happy. "There's so much of it."

"Can you sing again?" Minseok asks, keeping his gaze steady and his hands still. "You only sang for me once and at the time it was the only thing that made me want to keep going."

"I-" Baekhyun freezes, and its' as if he's forgotten his own voice, but he nods, slowly. "I can."

Baekhyun sings as fresh snow falls outside, as the lights flicker on the tree, as Joonmyun and Yixing bicker the next room over, and as the Earth rights itself into a familiar routine that speaks of the future. 

There's too much room in the world for the beauty that fills it.


End file.
